Girl, Ordinary
by syrrah
Summary: Tamara North is not what she seems. Edward Cullen is not what he seems, either. OC, no Bella.
1. Chapter 1 The New Girl, Again

This is a re-post. I haven't plagiarized it. Recognizable characters owned by SM

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter One

The New Girl, Again

We are all of us - saints and sinners, the knowing and the unknowing, all creatures great and small - governed by the same laws. I don't mean dusty old statutes scratched centuries ago with quill and ink on softest vellum, I mean the absolute laws that rule our physical world, the unspoken edicts adhered to by man and beast alike, by animals that slither or swim, or with a lift of wings are airborne. By creatures that walk or stalk, play or prey, breathe, eat, sleep, wake, mate and die. I am speaking of the natural order, yet this is not the only truth, there is an improbable, opposing truth co-existing. I don't know how it came to be, I don't know anything. At night I stare into unfathomable reaches of space, and wonder how it is that these immutable facts preside in the world that hosts something such as me.

My mother and I move every couple of years, and I start a new school, always in the same grade. I don't have to, but lately I choose it. At my age I sometimes find teenagers shallow and boring, yet I am attracted to their fervor, their passions, their outrageous sense of themselves as centre-of-the-universe. I never experienced those feelings and I seek to connect with them. I know I don't really think like a teenager but I have taught myself to talk like one, and I try to find ways of fitting in, even though it's always temporary.

This time we are in a small town called Forks, a rainy, misty, damp place tucked away in the backwoods of Washington state, and I am the new girl again. We'll do our tenure here, and I'll finish school, having held myself back so as not to be valedictorian, as once you've come top of your entire school a dozen times or so, the thrill palls. I would rather be ordinary, and this has been my gameplan for a while now.

My mother is different, as I am. It is not something she is able to explain to me, it is not something either of us understand, and as far as we know, we are the only ones like us. She is not even my mother to tell the truth, she found me and saved me when I was at my lowest ebb, despairing of this lonely life and yet unable to find any escape.

The two of us move and settle, move and settle, careful not to make friends who might try to look us up once we've left, yet careful to be sociable enough that we don't arouse suspicion, or attract attention.

My name is Tamara North, this time. My mother is Allyson. She is older than me, although neither of us are quite sure how old we are, or where we have come from.

And so to my first day at Forks High School. Everyone here is pale, due to the dearth of sunlight, however I am pale myself. Everyone is wrapped up, for the same reason. I love these conditions with a fierceness, finding the silver of the sky makes me yearn - it holds more than the flatness of blue on a clear day.

I don't stand out as my difference from others is not something that can be seen, and the students disposed towards friendliness are friendly to me immediately. A new face must be cause for considerable excitement around here. A girl introducing herself as Jessica takes me in hand straightaway, and she is chatty and amiable, asking questions about me that are easy enough to answer, as I have done this so many times before. She tells me readily about teachers and classes, and other students, and I am glad for her information. The work will be easy, the hard thing is not to anticipate questions, and not to get everything right, as I already know all of this stuff. I attend a couple of classes, and then Jessica indicates the seat next to her at the cafeteria for lunch.

In the cafeteria, I am looking around, seeing the lie of the land, so to speak, when my attention is caught by one group of students sitting together at a corner table.

To my surprise, they are not human. This is nothing short of unbelievable. They are blood-drinkers, base things my mother and I call Eaters, here, in a room bursting with luscious, pulsing, blood-filled living meals! No-one seems to be taking any notice of them, the room is buzzing with chatter and laughter as though no-one is aware of the danger they are all in.

I stare, covertly. Three males, two females. They all look high school age, although of course with their type, this doesn't mean anything. They could be hundreds of years old, or they could have been born yesterday, although from what I know, those born yesterday are wild and have no restraint and simply could not be in this sort of situation, so that means they must all be mature.

"Oh, you've spotted the Cullens," Jessica murmurs to me, noting the direction of my gaze.

"They're a bit like Forks royalty - they're all gorgeous aren't they? They're an adopted family, it's a bit incestuous really, the small girl Alice goes out with the blond boy, Jasper, the blonde girl Rosalie is with the big guy, Emmett, and the love-god Edward is the school heart-throb, but he doesn't go out with anybody. You can look all you like, and we all do, but he's not interested in anyone. He's got some classes with us - you might meet him this afternoon. He hardly ever speaks."

They are gorgeous, but the beauty of vampires has never held any appeal for me. Their perfection strikes me as bland, and lacking in character. They have no scars, no lines, no flaws, just cheekbones and intensity. I'm still looking, wondering how it is that they can be in a school and not eating everyone in sight, when the one called Edward turns his head and sees me. He is shocked. In all the busy, happy hubbub of seething humanity all around, he can see that I am not quite human, like him and like his family. I return his gaze, expressionless, but he is not, he frowns and he is trying to work me out. He won't be able to. The others notice, and they turn and look too, and they all react, the girl Alice with an instant smile, the girl Rosalie with narrowed eyes and suspicion, the other two boys with speculation.

I turn back to Jessica. "What's after lunch, did you say? Biology?"

I am not sure whether to be amused or chagrined when I discover not only is Edward in my biology class, but we are doing an exercise in pairs, and the only place left is next to him. He is to be my partner. We have to look at slides under a microscope and identify them. He will have done this many times before, and won't even have to think about it, just like me. It is not hard to see why he should be sitting alone, as it would be difficult for him to sit next to a human, I imagine, with an afternoon snack mere inches away from his teeth. We pass the microscope backwards and forwards between each other, and I am determined to be casual, telling him what I think I see, and asking if he agrees. He barely speaks. His discomfort is huge, and the not knowing what I am must be irksome for him. Vampires are intelligent, and immortality grants the opportunity to acquire a vast body of knowledge, yet he will never have come across someone like me before. As I have said, Allyson and I are the only ones. I am well aware that every time I peer into the eyepiece, he is examining me.

"Where I come from, it's considered rude to stare," I tell him, finally.

"I'm sorry, excuse me," he offers immediately, and looks away.

"My name is Tamara," I say, although everyone already knows, as the teacher announced it at the beginning of class.

"I'm Edward," he mutters, and he is not meeting my eyes now. It is a tricky situation. I know what he is but he doesn't know that I know, and he can't ask what I am without giving himself away. It takes a non-human to know another!

That night I tell Allyson there are vampires at school.

"Oh Lord," she says, which is a saying she likes, even though she and I don't consider there is any such thing. How could there be, with monsters such as Eaters stalking the earth? "And what is the student mortality rate like at the school?" she asks.

"I don't know. There wasn't any talk of bloodless corpses and trails of the dead. Maybe they don't tell you that sort of thing on the first day," I answer.

I guess we have a pretty black sense of humor, my mother and I.


	2. Chapter 2 Frog Juice

Edward and Tamara have a brief conversation about frogs, and Alice takes Bella for sushi. Edward and Alice are the property of SM, and Tamara is not me. I don't know anything about frogs!

**Girl, Ordinary**

Two

Frog Juice

Throughout the next few weeks I am subjected to endless dark stares from the eyes of Edward Cullen and I start to get heartily sick of it, however his sister Alice is a different kettle of fish altogether. She comes dancing up to me on the second day, links her arm through mine, and starts to bubble with excitement. I'm not touched a lot, and I tense with the contact, and she knows this due to her heightened senses, but my reaction could be put down to shyness or being startled, both of which apply. When I compose myself which only takes seconds, I relax. She is a tiny little thing, pretty as a picture, with a heart big enough for me to climb inside. She is determined to make me her friend, and she approaches me every day, inviting me to do this and that with her, telling me jokes and stories, complaining about Edward and confiding things about Jasper I would actually rather not hear. Her prettiness suits her nature, and she is open and inquisitive, asking me about myself without pause. I can't quite understand how she manages to talk so much, and yet draw information out of me at the same time. She is enchanting, and despite her years, an eternal child. I like her a lot.

Meanwhile, I continue to sit next to Edward in biology, as despite all the girls apparently wanting to be near him, he glowers at them so ferociously their resolve falters and they move away. Of course, he cannot hurt me, and I am unafraid. It's more the other way around - he is wary and uncomfortable, but the seat next to him is always the only one left, and that's where I have to go. Actually, he _could_ hurt me, depending on how fast he is, and how strong, but he couldn't kill me as he could kill as these other poor fragile creatures, and he couldn't break me.

He realises very soon that I know all the answers already, and he must be wondering about this - either I am very bright, or I have already done this work at my previous school, or what? What are the other possibilities?

"You seem to be quite familiar with amphibian biology," he remarks one day, making what must be for him a gargantuan effort at conversation. We are about to dissect a frog.

"Yes, I've covered it before," I say lightly. I don't need an eye in the back of my head to be aware of the continued staring, although eye placement is something I have actually experimented with, more than once. Mom and I do it to each other sometimes, for a laugh.

His staring has become a constant presence, I can feel the weight of it across the school ground, across the cafeteria, across classrooms. I might say something to Alice. Actually, I think I'll say something to him.

"You're always staring at me, Cullen. Quit it." And I look him straight in the eye. His eyes are a curious color, a sort of hazel gold. I see by the flutter of his lashes that he wants to look away, but he doesn't.

"I don't mean to be rude," he apologises, and he is slightly flustered at my directness. "I'm just curious. You're different to the people around here."

Well, yes I am, but I'm not talking to you about it, I think. My eyes are a common or garden blue, and betray nothing, I know it. They look fully human, as everything about me does. I hold my height at five-six, although of course I can change this. I cannot change my coloring, as the number of melanin cells I have is fixed, so I remain fair-skinned and dark haired. I tend to remain slender, as if I change shape I need different sets of clothes. Changing takes quite a bit of energy, too, it makes me tired, especially if I have to hold the changes for any length of time. I have looked more or less like this for years and years now.

"I'm just like everyone else in this room. Please watch what you're doing with that scalpel, I don't want to be squirted with frog juice," I say, deciding to play along with his conversation idea.

The first ever indication of a smile I have seen from him sneaks across his face.

"No frog juice," he says solemnly.

"Do you know the cane toads in Australia have sacs of hallucinogenic poison?" I ask him. "If someone is squirted in the eye with it they can go blind. But there's a belief that if you lick the toads' skin, you can have visions."

"Is that so?" he answers. "It's reassuring to know if I got squirted and lost my eyesight, I could lick the toad and still have visions, always assuming I could find the thing."

"Always assuming you could bring yourself to lick a toad..." I reply, and that's enough conversation for me now, and I apply myself to dismembering bits of frog.

"I saw you and Edward actually _talking_," Jessica says to me breathlessly at lunch time. "What did he say? Everyone wants to know what he thinks, but he's so standoffish."

"We just talked about class," I tell her, shrugging. Alice comes bouncing up. "Oh, hi Jess. Tamara, please come out with me on Saturday. I'm going to Seattle. _Shopping_! Please tell me you like shopping, and we'll go and have a great day, and I'll show you around, and we can buy things and have a nice lunch somewhere. It'll be fun!"

She is enthusiastic, and this is very appealing, although I would rather throw myself down a well than shop, but I am always up for a nice lunch, as I love to eat. I share agelessness with Eaters, but unlike them I share a need for sleep and food with humans. And Alice is great company. And Alice is the sort of person who has to move on every few years before people notice she doesn't get any older, just like I do. Apart from the blood-sucking, which I am beginning to suspect she doesn't do, Alice is the first person I have met in my entire life who I could possibly become friends with. I am going to have to find out how she survives - how any of her remarkable family survive. I have been monitoring the news closely in Forks, and in a community with a resident vampire coven you would expect endless grisly discoveries of hideously mutilated cadavers, you would think the news would be full of disappearances and gore and terror. But it isn't. They either leave their environs to feed, or they have found another way. Surely Alice is too nice to kill people? I have pretty good instincts, and even the surly Edward doesn't strike me as someone who could callously lacerate someone's throat and drain them.

Alice is waiting for my reply. She is still bouncing. Her eyes are shining and bright, and her short hair sticks up and out everywhere and she is imploring and sweet.

"Sure, I'll check with my mother, but that sounds good," I say. "Thanks for asking me."

"Shopping? You?" Allyson asks when I tell her. She is incredulous. For one thing, she knows I am not in the least attached to the idea of Stuff. And for another thing, there is the extreme reluctance we both feel towards the idea of making friends. I haven't mentioned about Alice's being one of the undead, I'm being guarded, because Allyson detests the undead with a passion. It is not their fault that they are carnivores, as it is not the tiger's fault, or the wolf's, but my mother's position is that they do not have to predate, they choose to. They are ruthless killers who enjoy the hunt, and we have always avoided them. I will tell Allyson soon, if my friendship with Alice proceeds any further, and once I have found out how she feeds. I don't know quite how to bring up the topic though. "Hey, new friend, sucked the living daylights out of anyone's jugular lately?" is an awkward question to ask.

On Saturday to my disappointment, when Alice knocks on the door she is groaning and grimacing, and tells me that Edward insisted on driving us, and he is outside in the car.

"He's so moody, he'll put a dampener on everything, we'll just have to pretend he isn't there, that's all you can do," she says.

"Good morning, Tamara," he offers politely as I slide into the back seat. Why is he here?

"Good morning Edward," I return, just as polite. Then Alice and I follow her plan and ignore him, chatting for the entire trip. I am not usually frivolous, but her natural exuberance invites frivolity and we giggle and gossip. She gossips, I should say, as I don't know how to. I look at the back of his neck in front of me, the way his hair curls at his nape. Even his vampire hair is beautiful. He is disapproving of Alice's stories, and sometimes censures her, and she rolls her eyes at me and smirks.

Once in town we manage to ditch him, and Alice and I hit the clothes shops. She keeps recommending things to me, and they are not at all the sort of things I would wear, in this incarnation at least. I have been many types of dresser before - from flamboyant to formal, I've done them all, and this time round I am a jeans and t-shirts girl, so the mini-skirts and revealing dresses Alice pulls off racks and coos at are really not my style.

"Come on, Tamara, just buy one sexy thing, and then we'll throw a party and you can wear it. You need a boyfriend!" she pleads. "I'll fix you up with someone, I'm really good at it, but you need to show yourself off a bit. Hey, why don't we go back to my house afterwards and I'll do a hairstyle for you? I do Rosalie's hair all the time. Oh, this is fun!"

It is, actually. She remembers after a couple of hours that lunch was part of the arrangement, and the Cullens have all seen me eat, just as I have seen them not eat, so we find a restaurant and I order sushi. Alice makes an excuse, as I knew she would.

"I'm just getting over a touch of gastro, I'm fine, honestly, but I really don't feel like food just now."

She is burning with curiosity, wanting to know what I am, but she's not going to ask just yet, she is grooming me, cultivating me. It's sort of mutual.

After lunch I want to go to a bookshop, and we both head straight for the fiction section. It seems I may have misjudged her, assuming she has the attention span of a gnat except when it comes to clothes, shoes and other people's lovelives, but she says she's in an Alastair Reynolds phase, and she's delighted to find a book of his she doesn't already have. We both get a coffee while we browse and she sits nursing hers without actually drinking a single mouthful.

Then it's time to meet up with Edward again, for the drive back to Forks. Alice has seven or eight bags, and I am helping her with them, so it looks as though I've bought things too, although all I've bought has been a couple of novels, Voltaire and Vonnegut, if you want to know.

Edward is quiet on the way back, and sighs at Alice. I am a little quieter too, and he looks at me through the rear view mirror.

"Are you coming to our place?" Alice asks eagerly, twisting in her seat.

"Could I take a raincheck? I've remembered I said I'd help my Mom in the garden," I say regretfully to her, knowing if I'm at her house I'll be able to feel the intensity of his staring all the way through the walls. I'm suddenly tired. I keep my own company a lot of the time, and Alice, though delightful, is demanding and tireless.

"Yeah, sure, next weekend?" she beams.

.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3 Pretend We're Shakespeare

Edward and Tamara have to write a play together and Edward sparkles. Edward is Stephanie Meyer's creation.

**Girl, Ordinary**

Three

Pretend We're Shakespeare

Edward and I have an English class together too, and I have to sit next to him here as well. Normally this doesn't call for us having to speak to one another, but this week we are set an assignment to be done in pairs - we have to write a two character, one act play with our partners, on one of a dozen themes our teacher has written up on the board.

"I guess we have to pick a topic," I say, turning to Edward. Despite his quietness, and the fact that he doesn't associate with people outside his family, I suspect he has a tendency towards leadership. So do I. This could be interesting.

"Which would you prefer to tackle?" he asks. We peruse the list. Death, revenge, innocence, grace, love, the list goes on.

"They're all kind of weighty to be explained or illustrated in such a short timeframe," I say. "But what about death? I stab you, you die, the end. We don't even need dialogue."

"Mime, and minimalist too, I like it," he responds, and he sneaks another one of those barely suggested smiles.

"And it's one act. The act of fatal stabbing. We could use fake blood, spray it everywhere," I suggest, watching to see if his face reveals anything. He's good, it doesn't.

"Why does one of us have to kill the other? Why couldn't we both kill somebody the audience doesn't see?" he asks, and it's a good question.

"Okay, let's say we do that. And I guess we do have to speak. Is it going to be premeditated? Do we talk before or after? Do we feel remorse?" I ask.

"What use is remorse? It doesn't undo anything. It's indulgence on the part of the perpetrator," he frowns.

"But surely genuine remorse can't be felt without self-realization and empathy?" I suggest, and we're suddenly involved in a very intense conversation, and I'm not sure if we're even talking about the assignment. We're talking about something veiled that neither of us will acknowledge. He's very deep, and he's thought plenty about these things, and I don't believe he's reached any sort of reconciliation within himself. I also don't believe he kills anybody.

"What about grace?" I ask him. "Does remorse lead to grace?" and if we carry on at this rate, the play is not going to be one act, it's going to be a stage version of Crime and Punishment.

The class has been given till the last week of term, and then we're going to have to perform, so Edward and I and all the other pairings are going to have to get together outside school hours. Jessica is beside herself.

"What theme have you chosen?" she asks. "Edward might take you to his house. No-one's been to the Cullen's house, you know. We're going to be graded on this, it's going to count towards the end of year assessment. Fancy, you and Edward getting together to do a play!"

When Edward realises that we're going to have to do some work outside the classroom, though, he looks pained.

"Don't get mad at _me_, it wasn't my idea," I snap, and I don't know why he's happy enough to do this at school, but not anywhere else. I'm not human, he can't want to eat me, but then of course he still doesn't know that I am fully aware of what he and his siblings are.

"I visit you, Alice plaits my hair, and you and I pretend we're Shakespeare. Everyone's happy," I tell him. A minute ago he was smiling, now he's creased with frowning.

"No, we'll meet somewhere," he says, through gritted teeth. He doesn't want me to go round there.

"You're a bit changeable, aren't you?" I ask him, and he's scowling even more. I realise he's going to be very easy to tease because he's so serious, and I get so few chances to tease anybody, with the loneliness of my existence. Mom and I can be very playful with another, but there are only the two of us. We can also go for days not speaking, as the mood takes us. Sometimes I don't even know why we're alive. It's not as though we can reproduce, the way humans can. Even vampires can create other vampires. Isn't that the purpose of all life? Renewal? There are adults because babies grow into them, in order to make more babies. I don't grow, I can't have babies, I don't have menstrual bleeding like human females, I don't even experience an oestrus cycle like mammalian females do, and physically I am suspended forever partway between adult and child. I suddenly want to talk about some of these things with Edward, as well as death. I want to talk about renewal, and pointlessness.

"Do you ever feel pointless?" I ask him, and he looks at me sharply, but the bell rings, and his eyes bore into mine for mere moments as everyone gathers their books and bags to leave the room. His irises have changed color, they are nearly black. He needs to feed. He needs blood.

We have arranged to meet in a park on Saturday morning, it is well frequented and there will be plenty of people about, but we will easily be able to talk privately. He has a laptop, and I can see he knows how to type properly, his fingers fly over the keyboard as we swap ideas. I am starting to become very impressed by him, against my will. Alice can be inconsequential, she is utterly charming, funny, impulsive and loving. Her brother is brooding and somber, and I have taken to observing small things about him, as I spend several hours a week in a chair next to him. I am aware he clenches his hands a lot, and to me this indicates ongoing inner battles. He is keeping himself very tightly in check, and it must be a constant strain. He is thin, I know vampires don't change the body shape they had when they were turned, and I wonder if he was consumptive. We have started to talk a lot, and I am becoming aware that although he has a dry wit and can be very funny, he sometimes sounds world-weary and resigned, he sometimes sounds aggressive and hostile, and he sometimes sounds as though he hates himself.

"Why did you ask me about pointlessness?" he says now. His eyes are golden again, so he has fed recently. I've been scouring the newspapers, and there are still no reports of brutal murders around town. I have never heard of vampires flying, so it's not like they can all just wing on over to the next state for dinner, and be back by morning, with nobody any the wiser. I just don't know what's going on. Can you buy plasma on the internet and get it delivered?

"Oh, you know. Teenage existential angst, because I'm really emo. Why are we alive? That kind of thing," I say to him.

"Does there have to be a reason?" he asks. "Why is grass alive? Or starfish? Or elephants? It's either intelligent design, and there's a divine purpose we're unaware of, or it's some great cosmological soup we've all come out of."

"You're calling me soup, Professor Cullen?" I grin.

It's an overcast day, it's lovely, the sky is silver, it's chilly and I have a big turtleneck sweater on under my jacket, and I'm sitting under a tree in a park where the grass is so green it's blueish. I'm in Forks, Washington, and I get the sudden exhilarating and terrifying idea that I'm developing a crush on somebody. And not just anybody. A vampire. My mother will die of shock, except that she can't. It won't be reciprocated, because it just won't, the world is suddenly more beautiful and more sorrowful to me than it has ever been, and I feel a depth of sadness words cannot express. I have loved once, I let myself, and of course I lost the object of my love as humans are too ephemeral, they have such a short time here walking earth's thin crust with its layer of dirt and plants, animals and people, all nourished by dead things, nourished by what all these lives will come to, dust and death. My love was my daughter, a baby, a child, a girl, a woman, a crone, who died and left me anguished, wanting her.

"Dust and death," I say to Edward, and he doesn't know what I'm talking about, of course, although it all goes back to the pointlessness. Or maybe that _is_ the point. What is pointless is immortality, I'm not going to nourish anything.

And then the sky does an extraordinary thing. The clouds part, and a few shafts of sunlight blaze weakly through.

Edward makes a startled sound, and looks like a deer in headlights. There isn't a lot of leaf cover over us, and the light comes through the branches and strikes his face, even as he ducks his head.

"Edward?" I ask. His skin twinkles, gently, blinking with a thousand tiny lights like the facets of crystals do. I can only see part of his neck, which isn't covered by his hair, and the angular curve of one cheek.

He looks up, slowly. There is no point trying to hide, because he can't.

"It's okay, Edward. I already knew," I tell him. I didn't know he'd sparkle in sunlight, actually, that's a new one on me.

"Knew what?" he asks, slightly defiant.

"I know what you are," I say.

"What am I?" he asks. "Tell me."

"You're a vampire."

He lets out a heavy breath, he runs a hand through his hair, and his hair stays sticking up.

"And you're not running away screaming, or pointing cruicifixes at me?"

"Neither of things would be any use."

He turns his golden gaze to me and regards me steadily. His lips are full and wide, he hasn't shaved for a few days, his eyebrows are straight and dark, his jaw is firm and the planes of his face are hard. His vampire perfection isn't looking quite so bland to me. Somehow, his beauty has become unnerving.

"Why aren't you freaked out?" he says.

I shrug. "You haven't harmed anyone around here. I'd have heard about it."

His customary frown appears. "How did you know?" he asks me.

"I knew it straightaway. I've seen vampires before. You're all beautiful. You're all perfect."

"We're far from perfect," he shakes his head.

"How can you and all the Cullens live here, like this?" I ask, indicating with a sweep of my head the park full of families, plump, juicy people of all shapes and sizes, full of sugary, salty iron-rich blood.

"We choose to. There aren't many options for our kind. We can live apart and hunt, and become the hunted, as people hate and fear us, or we live amongst people, and forswear feeding on them. My family are mavericks, we feed only on animals," he says . "I have killed in the past, I was sickened by it. It was a thrill at first, because we are so strong, our kind, we are fast, we glory in our superior strength, humans can do very little to stop us or even to evade us, and the kill is glorious. But we were all humans once, I was loved, I know I was, by my mother, and the thought of the pain I was causing by taking my victims from those who loved them was eventually enough to stop me. It outweighed the triumph. My victories became hollow. In a way, although I have lost my humanity, I struggle to retain it. To be human is to love, and to honor love, that's what I decided."

"Remorse and grace," I say to him. He is frowning, he frowns a lot. No wonder, with the weight of these types of thoughts.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asks.

"No," I say. "Not after what you've just said."

"You should be," he warns. "I'm not safe to be around."

"You attend high school! You must be pretty sure of yourself to place yourself in the way of so much temptation," I say.

"It's a daily struggle. Hourly. I test my limits all the time. I keep to myself, you will have seen - I have to, because people drive me to distraction. Some days it's all I can do not to attack someone."

"Why do you put yourself through it, then?"

"To be around people. I love people, I _love_ them, all of them, I love their lives, their concerns, everything that I've lost, I want to be around it."

"You're a masochist."

"I don't think so. I don't enjoy the pain."

"Okay, not a masochist. A sick romantic. A reformed killer, who is in love with the very thing he would steal - life itself."

"Yes, perhaps I am. Not just life, though, I love the _livers_ of life. Why aren't you afraid of me, Tamara? Here we are in a public place, I'm very fast, I could tear open your veins and drink my fill, and it would look like a lover's embrace, I could kill you and leave you lying here, people would think you were just having a moment of relaxation, nobody would check on you for hours, you'd be long dead, and I would be long gone."

"You wouldn't do it, though, Edward, would you?"

I don't actually know why I'm not afraid of him, as I've said, he could hurt me, although I can heal myself in minutes, he couldn't do any lasting harm. But I can feel pain. I have intact nerves, and I can feel physical pain just as everyone else can.

"I've told you, it's a never-ending struggle. People have different levels of appeal, of being attractive to me, of being appetising, you might say. You're different, it's not just your scent, alluring though it is, I don't know what it is about you, but it's torture that you sit next to me. I can never allow myself to be alone with you, and I don't want you to come to my house. I'm sorry. I've already told Alice that she can't invite you round, unless I'm not going to be home," he says. "Actually, I don't want you in my house even when I'm not there. Thinking about you unhinges me."

I can't quite believe all this. It's all new, and unexpected and startling.

"What are you talking about?" I demand.

"You're not a monster like me, Tamara. I know it. I don't know what you are, and I'm not going to ask you. I can't stand to know."

"You're not a monster, Edward! You've thought about what you've done, and you can't possibly make amends, but you are insightful and aware, and you're sorry, and you've made a choice, and you live by that choice, even at the high cost you pay. I've seen your hands shaking, and your jaw clench at school. I know how hard it is for you - well, I don't feel how you suffer, but I see some of it."

"Well, you're more observant than anybody else, then," he mutters. The sun has gone now, the keeper and exposer of what he thought was his secret.

"Don't you want to know about me?" I say.

"I've told you, no," he says. "I haven't come so near to killing anybody in years, and daily I want to kill you."

"You can't kill me, Edward. I can't be killed. You can hurt me, but only if I don't see it coming, and even then, I mend."

He is looking stunned now, and disbelieving.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Just that. You can't kill me, not you, not anyone in your family, not wild boars or fire or flood or a ten-ton truck or a meteor."

"That's not possible."

I have to laugh then, just a little. A vampire, telling me immortality isn't possible?


	4. Chapter 4 The Music of the Spheres

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Four

The Music of the Spheres

After we have this conversation, Edward doesn't come to school for days. I have his number, which he gave me so we could make arrangements about discussing the play, and I text and call, but there is no response. When I see Alice at school I ask her, but she shrugs and says "Oh, Edward. I love my dear brother, but he has these hissy fits now and again. He's so emotional for a boy. It's like pms. He'll be back boring us all soon," but she doesn't look as derisive as she sounds. She looks worried. I can tell that he hasn't told her about me, because I'm sure she would want to discuss it. She does say the hairdressing session is off because the family is going hiking. By that, I take it she means hunting.

After a week he turns up, and there is a rumor circulating that he has tried unsuccessfully to change some of his classes. How that could get around I don't know, but there he is in biology, looking thunderous.

"What's the matter with you?" I hiss, because I am annoyed that he's avoiding me.

"Mind your own business, please," he replies in an undertone. I think it _is_ my business, but he won't talk, and I see his hand gripped in a fist on his leg under the table. His knuckles are white.

That's Monday. On Wednesday we have English.

"You're going to have to speak to me, because we have to do our play," I say to him.

"You do it. You're more than capable of writing it yourself," he says.

"But you have such an interesting point of view," I say. "And it's hardly fair. It will be brilliant if I do it by myself, and I'll have to share the accolades with you."

He doesn't take the bait.

"Or I'll deliberately make it dreadful, and then you'll have to suffer half the humiliation," I threaten.

"All right Tamara, we'll do this. I don't care what my marks are. I've graduated enough times now that it doesn't really matter, but I do care about yours, and of course we'll do as good a job as we can do. I won't let you down. But please, I'm not going to be your friend. I don't have friends. We'll do the assignment, and then go our separate ways for the rest of this year and the next, and then we'll both be out of here," he murmurs.

"But you say you love people. Everyone's mildly scared of you, although they don't know why, the only people who will hang around with you are your freaky family, who are just as undead as you are and who you must have known for a hundred years by now. You've surely heard all their jokes, and now, here's me, an actual person, more or less. You can talk to me, you've got the chance to expand your circle. Are you turning that down?" I ask him.

"Yes," he says, looking grim.

"But Edward, I don't have any friends either! I want you to be my friend!"

"You can't want me around. You don't know what you're saying. I am extremely _dangerous_, you've got no idea. Don't go thinking I'm tame just because I come in here every day and act harmless. I could rip your head off, and I just might."

I've gone from finding him mildly annoying, with all the staring, to overwhelming. It's not something I'm used to, it's never happened to me before. My senses sing when he's around, my skin tingles. It's come up suddenly, and engulfed me like a wave.

My hair is long, and today it's unbound, and I shake my head, feeling the heaviness of my confusion and trying to toss it as though it were drops of rain spilt by the heavens, onto my bowed head.

"Please don't do that," Edward says in a choked voice, and that's a tidbit of information for me. I lean closer. He strains away from me, he even moves his chair.

"I said _don't_," he mutters. Interesting.

But we need to talk.

Our play is going very well. Being about death, it was always going to be dark, but there is an undercurrent running through the words, we both want to say that death is what makes life so valuable, and we ask if we had a foreshadowing of our own deaths, would we live any differently? A single death is a life lost for all eternity, a life of complexity and wonder and little things. It is the end of hope. The more we talk, the more we _want_ to talk, I can feel Edward's conflict as we discuss it all, and I can see it written on his face. I know he is moved by these conversations, as I am. I know he discusses this sort of thing with his father, as he has told me about it, and I would like to meet him, but the members of his family are off limits to me, he has said now, except for Alice.

Alice still has no idea that I know about them all, and she is still cheerful and happy around me, although I can see that she is shrewd and kthoughtful too, and that she worries deeply about Edward's state of mind. She says "Oh, he has these fugues, he philosophizes, he goes off by himself and no-one can reach him. You know, the long, dark night of the soul."

He has told her he doesn't want me at their house, and although she is dismayed at this sort of territorialism, she respects him. She knows him better than do, and she knows his reasons. She shrugs expressively to me when she tells me, and says "Never mind, I'll come to your place."

This means of course that I will have to tell Allyson. She has said "Why don't you bring this friend of yours Alice over for dinner?" and the reason is of course, that as soon as she gets a look as Alice's marble skin and perfect features she'll wrench a leg off a chair and try and stake her through the heart.

"Does the stake through the heart thing work?" I ask Edward in class.

"Of course it doesn't. And I don't recommend anyone try it. Angry vampires are even worse than hungry ones," he replies. Now and again, he still shows a little levity. I wonder what I can to improve things, if there's anything I _can_ do. One morning I try tickling him.

His reaction is explosive - he swears, and he's sent out of the classroom.

At lunchtime he comes over to where I'm sitting with Jessica, and he says "Tamara, can I have a word with you about our assignment?"

Jessica giggles helplessly, and I get up and follow him out into the corridor.

"Never, _ever_ do that to me again," he growls.

"What, this?" I say, and go for his side again. He's much quicker than me, and he has my wrist before I get anywhere near him, but I have a few tricks, too. Even though he's holding me very tightly, I compress my wrist and simply slide my hand out of his grasp. I'm shocked by coldness of his skin.

"Huh?" he says dumbly, looking at his fingers, where my wrist has so lately been. He looks swiftly up to my face.

"Huh, what?" I repeat, looking innocent.

"How did you do that?" he demands.

"Do what?" I ask him.

"I was holding you then. I didn't let go. How did you get your hand away?"

"Don't manhandle people. Not everyone's going to take it," I say, and I turn to go back in. He takes my arm, and I slip out of his grasp again, by squeezing the gaps between my cells so my arm is thinner than his encircling fingers. "Not everyone's going to take it," I say again, over my shoulder.

He's waiting for me after school, standing at the main door. I usually get a lift home with Mike, a classmate who lives near me, but Edward says "Tamara will be coming with me this afternoon, Mike, thanks."

Mike looks crushed, and Edward ignores him.

"I'm only coming because I choose to, you know," I tell Edward, sitting in his car. "I could ooze right out this door and you couldn't do a thing about it."

He drives without speaking for twenty minutes or so, and I just look out of the window. We're in the woods, it's dark and damp, and even colder here as though the chill is held in by the overhanging branches. I half expect deer and bears to be hiding around the tree trunks, and wolves to come leaping out. It feels pristine and otherworldly. Edward pulls over and turns to me.

"It's time for a chat, don't you think?"

"I've been trying to talk to you. You're the one who doesn't want to participate," I point out.

"I do now. Just what exactly are you?" he asks.

"Oh, take me home," I say crossly. "I don't like your attitude. You refuse to be friends, you say you can't be alone with me, and then you drive me out here miles from anywhere. You're too contradictory. What about the wanting to kill me and eat me? Is that why we're here?"

"No, I don't want to kill you and eat you. Well, maybe I do, but I want you to answer some questions, first."

"I'm not going to tell you anything. I'm going to get out and run home. I don't tire, you know, and I don't mind the cold." I go to open the door, but I can't. It's locked.

"I'm sorry. I keep saying I'm sorry to you, I know, but that business today with your hand was a new development," he says.

"A new development in what? In your plan to pretend I don't exist once the play is finished?"

He sighs. "I'm not going to able to do that. It was a naive idea, and it's not going to work. I try and ignore you now and I can't. You're under my skin. There's something else I haven't told you. I'm able to know what people are thinking, I hear their thoughts as though they'd spoken them, but yours are blocked to me. It's never happened before. I try to listen to you, and I do hear something, but it's not words."

"Really?" I say, interested in spite of myself. I'm glad he can't eavesdrop on my thoughts though, because lately he would have picked up things that would really embarrass him. Things like me looking at his long fingers and wanting to feel them touching me. That's a very mild version - they've been getting a lot more explicit than that.

"This is another new development, then isn't it? Were you planning to let me know?" I ask.

"To let you know I can't read your mind? I thought you'd take it for granted," he says.

"Okay, what do you hear?" I ask.

"It changes. Sometimes a sort of white noise, sometimes very faraway notes, I can't catch the melody, I think it chimes, but it's so faint I just don't know."

"The music of the spheres," I say, half-wonderingly, half smugly, still worrying about whether he can pick up visions or not. "Do you actually, er _see_ anything?"

"No," he shakes his head. I'm looking closely, and I can tell he's being honest.

"Well, what sort of thing do you hear from other people?" I ask then.

"Mike didn't want you to come with me. He likes you a lot, and he wants to ask you to be his girlfriend. He thinks he has a chance with you."

"Erk!" I reply, although I've realised this myself.

"Jessica likes me, she's jealous that I'm paying you any attention," he continues.

I knew this too. "You're not a mind reader. I know all that."

"Half the boys in school want to have sex with you, and some of the girls do, too."

I didn't know this. Mike, yes. Half the school, no.

"You're making it up. I'm ready to go home now, please unlock my door, or are you going to drive me?"

"I haven't finished talking to you. I could break your neck - don't you believe me? We have supernatural strength, my kind -"

"Enough with the death threats, already, Captain Evil. I'm not scared of you. Are you scared of me?" I ask him.

He snorts, but he's not as sure of himself as he's making out to be, I think. He turns the key in the ignition, and we start off.

"Are you going to tell me what happened at school back there, with your hand?" he said.

"Are you going to let me visit Alice?" I counter.

"All right," he concedes. "Deal. Tell me."

"_After_ I visit Alice," I say.

.

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	5. Chapter 5 Girl, Ordinary

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Five

Girl, Ordinary

On Saturday, I tell Allyson I'm going to Alice's house.

"Okay, baby, but I'm still looking forward to meeting her," Mom says. "She must be quite special, this Alice - visiting people is rather not you."

Edward picks me up, and he doesn't come in, I've not invited him because Mom would attack him on the spot.

"What is this visit about, again?" he asks in the car.

"Alice is going to do my hair," I say.

"You don't look like the hair-do sort of girl," he comments.

"What would you know?" I ask. I am in no mood for his rubbish. I wish he would just lighten up for once - for all time, really. Although on reflection, no - the talks we have about meaning and emptiness strike a chord with me - he is another lonely soul on the edge of the abyss, as I am - can I let him know it?

His house is modern and light-filled. Half of it is glass, and faces the woods. It's like the trees come inside, and the sky is the ceiling. Alice runs up squealing, and proudly takes me round, showing me off to everyone.

Their mother is far too young to be their biological mother, although she exudes a depth of caring and compassion that manages to encompass me, somehow. Their father is tall and a little forbidding, but I sense a keen intellect, and a dispassionateness that regards everybody in the same light and does not discriminate. Rosalie appears vain and disinterested, but when I am introduced to Emmett, her brother/boyfriend, she watches keenly. Emmett looks me up and down and I feel like I've been marked out of ten, and highly too, but he is taken and his regard holds appreciation but no real desire. Jasper looks at me intently, at my face, not looking further down than my neck, seeming to search for what I think and feel.

"Come on, Amara," Alice sings, scampering with my hand in hers, and dragging me along. Usually, my name is shortened to Tammy, which I abhor, but Alice has somehow read the nickname I like, which is not a diminutive at all, but a beautiful name in its own right.

We go to a room which is almost bare but for a piano, and Edward comes in and sits down at the bench, and Alice puts me in a chair and whispers, "Edward will give us a recital. He's very good - you're privileged," and she brushes my hair for a full I-don't-know-how-long, as he plays. She's right - he's very good. I am lulled by the scalp massage of the hairbrushing, and by his musicianship. I remember the delicious frisson I feel admiring his long fine fingers - so this is what they can do.

Alice is nimble as my eyes close, some time later she is holding up a mirror and she has given me an immaculate french braid, all the way down between my shoulder blades, and Edward is watching us, inscrutable.

"The view is beautiful from my room - would you like to see it?" he asks me, and I am thanking Alice for the hair, feeling sensuous and dazed, and I say yes to Edward.

He takes me up a flight of stairs, and through a door. My first impression is that the room has no bed, but many shelves, with books and cds - even an old style record player.

"Where do you sleep?" I ask him.

"I don't sleep," he says simply. He is tall, he is looking down at me. I fight off a hysterical desire to be as tall as him and look at him eye-to-eye, because this is something I could do, but I stay at my usual height and look around.

"Seriously?" I ask, and he shakes his head. Sleeping is one of my great pleasures, or at least, waking is, and you can't have the one without the other. In the half state between sleeping and waking I feel I truly inhabit and explore and enjoy my mind, the rest of the time I am so busy trying to be what society expects of me I am tired. I have to check through all my cells, every single one of them, to be Tamara North, though as I have said, my height and shape have been arrived at by nature, and they are acceptable to my will. It is easiest for me to be this age, this is the optimum for me. I don't know if I was changed as vampires are changed, if I was a seventeen year old girl who underwent a bizarre metamorphosis that gave her absolute control over her cellular age and order, or if I fell like this out of a comet's tail or what, I simply don't know.

Edward watches me as I look at his things and I am acutely self-conscious, feeling over-aware of his gaze.

"I like how Alice has done your hair, but I like it how you do it, too," he says finally, breaking the silence.

"Thank you," I say, turning towards the window. It takes up almost an entire wall, and faces out to the woods. The view is spectacular. I probably wouldn't sleep either, if this were my room.

"Tamara, I still want to ask you about the other day," Edward says suddenly, startling me. He is so close his voice is right at my ear.

"No, I don't want to be asked," I answer, turning back to him, and looking up. He is very close. If he tilted his head, and bent it, his lips would come to mine. I know this, I can see he is aware of it. Or I could reach a hand up to his neck and pull him down to me. My mouth opens breathlessly, and his gaze is drawn to it, but I step away, away from the search of his golden eyes, from the giddying feelings of my reaction at being so close to him. If his lips touch mine I will sink and drown and never be myself again. I have been around for so long, and I still don't know who I am, I don't need this interruption, this volcanic eruption, in my journey to self discovery.

"We had a deal. I said you could come here to visit Alice if you tell me about yourself," he says, his voice deep.

"Nothing to tell. Girl, ordinary," I answer, and he reaches suddenly, and takes both my wrists, his grip like ice.

"That isn't quite true. I'm not letting you go," he says. "If you want to get out of here, you have to show me what you can do." His hold isn't tight, but it's tight enough that I couldn't simply twist free. I gaze at him, he's facing me, we're facing each other, my eyes at the level of his throat, though I have raised my chin, and he is looking down.

"Would you really do that?" I ask. "Hold me if I don't want you to?"

"I'm a monster," he answers, his fingers now tighter, my pulse surging beneath them.

"No, I don't believe you are," I say.

"Believe it," he says.

I refuse to do what he is asking, I believe he has a core of absolute decency, despite what he might say about himself, and I have all the time in the world to prove it. It's a standoff. I could get away, of course, and he suspects I could, but he doesn't know for sure, which is why he is doing this to me.

"You're cutting off my circulation," I whisper after a few minutes' stalemate, and the word arouses him, stirs him. He has told me he doesn't breathe, but he inhales now, sharply.

"Give me one hand back, please Edward, my right hand, it hurts."

He lets my right hand go, so he is not so much a monster after all, and quickly I snake it around his neck and get up onto my toes, boosting my height by the action and adding to it in the way that I have. He must be about six-two, I am momentarily six foot. I stare into his eyes, and on an impulse, move to kiss his perfect, perfect mouth, despite my earlier disinclination. Before I can accomplish this feat however, he has let go of my left hand, almost snarling at me, he has one hand wrapped tight around my jaw, the other around the back of my head, and his lips are drawn back, showing his teeth. He has stopped short of pushing my head back, exposing my throat to him, but he is in the perfect position to do so.

I see him struggle with his instinct to sink those teeth into my carotid sheath.

"Don't provoke me," he says urgently, and pushes me abruptly away from him, so hard that I stagger, and half fall onto the low ottoman couch he has against the window. He sees I've lost my balance, and moving so fast he's a blur he catches me, and eases me down to the seat, contrition all over his disturbing features.

"Tamara, please, it's taking all my self control to have you in here with me, you don't know how hard it is to rein myself in, I'm warning you, don't push me," he whispers, on his knees.

"Why did you bring me here then?" I whisper back.

"I don't know. I don't understand it. You have this _effect_ on me, it's not easy to describe, but you almost make me feel alive again. This hasn't happened to me with anyone before, ever. I've told you about the kill, the excitement and sheer triumph of it, the exultation of taking blood - when you've newly fed on human blood, you almost feel as if your own is pumping again, as though your heart beats. You make me feel like that. I've tried to stay away, but now I know that feeling I can't relinquish it. I told Carlisle and Esme that I was leaving, that I couldn't bear it, but I'm still here. I didn't know if I would have the strength to be around you and not taste you, but it turns out I don't have the strength for the alternative, which is never to see you again."

"Edward, I'm confused. What do you want? To be around, keep me at arm's length, stare at me from dawn till dusk, and watch me get on with having a life while you lurk in the shadows?"

"If you want to put it like that, then yes."

"That's too weird."

"I'll watch you, I'll keep an eye on you. You will always be safe. I'm not the only scary thing around here, Tamara. There are creatures worse than me, but you need never fear them."

"You're planning to become my stalker?"

"Not stalker, guardian."

"Why don't you perform this service for anyone else? If you're so noble and life-saving, why don't you set up a business? Why don't you save everyone from the scary things?"

"I'm not noble, Tamara. I will tear apart anyone or anything that tries to harm you. Is that noble? I'd call it murderous."

"But why _me_?" I ask. His eyes, his face, are very close to me, far too close for comfort. I feel heat rise in my cheeks, and he looks at the warmth suffusing me, he swallows and his mouth opens and he sighs. The caress of his exhalation is as cold as everything else about him, except for the searing of his gaze.

"I could give you adjectives, I could tell you it's your looks, or your scent; your intelligence and strength and courage, I could give you a list of words as long as your arm, but even strung together in their hundreds they would be inadequate," he says, shaking his head. "It's inexplicable."

It's too much. I can't take it in, I don't know what do with this knowledge of his unaccountable obsession with me.

"Well, thank you for alerting me to your undying love," I tell him, now edging away on the low bench.

"You misunderstand me. I haven't said I love you. It's not love," he answers.

"Oh," I feel foolish. He hasn't said anything of the kind, it's true. "Lust, then," I say.

He shakes his head. "It's not lust either."

"Well, what is it then?" I demand. I'm standing up, and backing away. He lets me.

"Hunger," he says.

Now I know. Hunger.

"What am I supposed to do?" I ask him angrily. "I didn't ask for this!"

"You have to stay away from me," he answers simply. "For your own safety."

"Great! You tell me to stay away, but you've said you'll follow me! It's _your_ problem, and you expect me to provide the solution. Who do you think you are?"

At that point there's a knock on the door, and Alice's voice sounds from the other side.

"Edward, can I have my friend back now?" she sings out.

Throwing a glare at him, I go to the door and open it.

"Do you want to get something to eat, Tamara? Would you like a drink? Come and see my room!" Alice burbles happily, and without another look behind me, I go with her.

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	6. Chapter 6 A Flower Or A Unicorn

Tamara blushes...

SM owns all of the Twilight universe.

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Six

A Flower or a Unicorn

I'm a bit of a nervous wreck now, but I figure the trembling will stop soon, and I had already decided today would be the day I'd have a proper talk to Alice. We sit in her room, which is nowhere near as sparse as Edward's, and I clear my throat.

"Alice?"

"Mmm-hmm?" she says, putting down a plate of cookies on her night stand.

"I need to tell you something. I know about you, about all of you. I figured it out, and Edward and I have talked about it."

She smiles. "I know, Tamara. I would never have asked you over here if I thought you didn't know what we are."

"How did you know? Did Edward tell you?" I ask.

"No. It was intuition, I guess. I recognized you, you know. I was expecting you. When we're turned as vampires, some of us receive a sort of gift. Mine is visions. I see things. I had already seen you and Edward together, before you came to school. I told him you were coming."

"Me and Edward?" I ask, faintly. "Together how?"

"Oh, you know," she grins. "_Together_."

"No, he doesn't like me that way. He's told me. How accurate are your visions?"

"Well, it's true they're not always that reliable. They're sort of a picture of what _could_ be, not precisely what _will_ be. There are plenty of factors that come into play."

"Well, I hope free will is one of them," I mutter. Her brother is attractive to the point that's haunting, but he's also controlling, moody and unpredictable, and I'm not enjoying being constantly threatened.

"There's something else. Something about me. I've never explained it to anyone before, and I don't really know how to put it into words, so maybe I should just show you. No, maybe I'll tell you. Um," I begin.

She's looking at me curiously now. I wonder if the visions have already shown her a little of what I am, but she looks unknowing, and she's waiting.

"I'm mostly human, I think, but I'm a bit different, too. I have a kind of control over my body that people don't ordinarily have. I can sort of shape-change."

"You _can_?" she squeals. "I didn't know there was such a thing! I thought it was fiction!"

"Most people think vampires are fiction," I remind her, and she laughs, conceding.

"Show me," she says.

One of the easiest things to do is change my height, so I do that. I get her to stand up, and she's tiny, so I compress until I'm her height. She positively beams. Then I expand to a foot taller. She laughs out loud and claps her hands.

"More, more," she calls, and Mom and I have a whole repertoire of tricks we have thought up during what I sometimes think of as the wasteland of our lives, so I conjure up a few. One of my favorites is growing an extra finger. It takes quite an effort of concentration, as I gather cells from everywhere I need them, bones, veins, tendons, skin, nails, and put them together, shuffling the other digits apart to fit in the new one. Alice's eyes nearly pop out. At one of our old places Mom and I had a piano, and we used to laugh ourselves silly, playing together with twenty-four fingers between the both of us.

"What else?" Alice asks, her wonder childlike and delighted. I make my breasts bigger, and she laughs until she cries.

"_That's_ gotta be fun," she says. "Boys must love it."

"Actually, there aren't any boys. You were going to help me out there, remember?" I'm not really serious, but she muses a little and shrugs.

"Can you turn into a flower, or a unicorn?" she asks.

"No, I can only rearrange the cells I have. I can look pretty weird, but I remain more or less human. It takes a lot out of me, though. What you're used to seeing is what the real me looks like," I tell her.

"Well, the real you is gorgeous," she smiles, and I could hug her for that. But I need to know something.

"Can I just ask you about the vision again? Of me and Edward? What did you actually see?"

She puts her head on one side, eyeing me.

"You were kissing," she says.

"Did you tell _him_ that?" I know I'm blushing.

"Your cheeks are lovely," she murmurs. "No, he doesn't go anywhere near girls. There are plenty who'd have him - vampires and humans - but he's extremely guarded. If I'd told him I saw him kiss someone he'd have a fit. I just told him I'd seen him with a girl. He can mind read, of course, but I sort of hid it, I just showed him your face. He and I both knew you that first day in the cafeteria."

"But what you saw isn't a hundred per cent certain?" I persist.

"Nope. Call it ninety-nine point nine!" she grins.

We spend a couple of hours listening to music, and chatting and she plays with more hairstyles for me. I've never spent this much time with a girl before, and it's easy and fun. The chatter isn't all idle - I find, as I had already thought I would, that she's as clever as Edward, just not consumed with her own perceived failings the way he is. We talk about her family, and their unusual choice, and she feels positive about it. She doesn't consider any of them egregious in any way. I thoroughly enjoy her company, and if this is friendship, I will pursue it.

Later Edward drives me home, and he is very quiet. So am I, thinking about what he said to me in his room, and what Alice told me in hers.

Before we get back to my house he pulls over and turns to me.

"Don't think you can renege on our agreement. You're not going to get away with it," he says.

I can see he's perfectly serious, and I can see he's not going to let it go.

"What do you want to know?" I ask.

"You said nothing can kill you. What do you mean?"

"I recover from everything. Accidents, cuts, broken bones, burns even - I can be injured, and I can feel pain, but I heal, scarless. I can fall sick but I get over it, with no ill-effects. And I don't age. I've been like this as long as I can remember, and I have no memory of being other than this. I don't remember being a child. My mother and I have to keep moving, because neither of us get any older."

"Those are all characteristics shared by vampires. But you're not a vampire!"

I shudder, involuntarily "No, we eat and drink and sleep and breathe and have beating hearts, just as humans do."

"What happened when I took your hand, at school, outside the cafeteria?"

"Try it again," I offer.

He reaches for my hand, and I let him hold me for seconds, feeling the chill from him.

"Hold tight," I say, and his fingers tighten around mine.

"As hard as you can," I prompt, and he looks up at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Your bones would snap," he warns, although his grip does tighten again, and I let myself relax completely, my hand goes limp, the cells draw in close to one another and I withdraw easily from his grasp.

"You get this from your mother?" he frowns.

"Allyson is not my biological mother, as Esme is not yours," I say. "She has the same abilities as me, we don't know what we are, and we know of no others."

Edward leans away from me, raking his hand through his tumbled hair, and turns his head to the window.

"An immortal," he murmurs, so quietly I could have imagined it.

The rest of the drive passes in silence.

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	7. Chapter 7 Arrowhead Formation

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Seven

Arrowhead Formation

During the week, Jessica mentions that there will be a party at the beach on the weekend.

"Forks has a beach?" I ask in surprise.

"Yeah, First Beach, it's really nice. A bunch of us from school, and some other people are going down for a bonfire and drinks and stuff. We have these parties every couple of months. They get wild. If you haven't already got a boyfriend, you'll get one at the party!" she says, watching me.

She's asked a little wistfully if there's anything between me and Edward and I've assured her there isn't. I know she likes him, poor thing, as she's very transparent, but knowing him as I do now, she hasn't got the slightest chance. She has less than the slightest chance. All the girls here haven't got a hope, never mind how much yearning over him they do. I guess if he ever fell for anyone human he could always turn them, so their humanity isn't a problem - the problem is the depths of his despair. He's in no state for a girlfriend. He suffers too much to let anyone in and he probably thinks with all his problems he'd be a burden to anybody unlucky enough to care for him. He really believes he's a monster, and not worth the love of a decent person.

Of course, after some subtle quizzing of Jessica I find the Cullens haven't been invited - they're not on anyone's social calendar. I decide I'm going to go, because I so rarely go out, and I do like Jessica, who is kind and uncomplicated. Mike's informs me eagerly one afternoon on the way home that he's going to be there.

"I can come by and pick you up if you like, say six?" he offers.

Allyson raises an eyebrow when I tell her, and says, "You're making friends all over the place. Have some fun, good on you. But you're not the only social butterfly, darling. Did I tell you I'm going on an actual _date_? With a _man_?"

"Really?" I say. "Who is he?"

It turns out it's someone she's met through work and she's already had lunch with him. She likes his company and thinks he's attractive and they're going to go for a meal and a movie. I know she and I are both feeling a little cautious about this mad socializing but we're ready for a break from long evenings with no-one but each other for company, when we stretch the limits of our cell-rearranging capacity by growing our noses and making our ears pointy for one another's amusement.

"Well, Ally, if your guy turns out okay, and I meet someone nice at the party, maybe we can double-date, like real people," I suggest.

"I don't think real mothers and daughters double-date, so maybe not, unless we meet a father and son. Now _there's_ an idea..." she laughs.

On Saturday Mike arrives at six on the dot, and I climb in to his car in my jeans and t-shirt, which I'm hoping is Forks beach party wear. I needn't worry, it turns out I'm dressed pretty much the same as everybody else.

Mike and I join in with Jessica, and a couple of other friends from our homeroom, Erik and Angela, wandering about collecting pieces of driftwood which everybody is piling up to make a huge bonfire. Someone has a guitar and is strumming a few chords and people are singing. I've been to a few parties like this before, and they're usually good, sometimes great, occasionally disastrous.

I'm happy enough, chatting with the others as we sit round and listen to the music, and then Jessica looks behind me and says, "Hey, here come the guys from La Push." I turn around, and that's when everything changes.

There are a group of people walking along the beach towards us in arrowhead formation, like a flock of migrating birds. At their head is the tallest person I've ever seen. The others are fanned out diagonally behind him. They just keep coming, along the dunes, and even the music stops at their approach.

"Hey, dudes," someone calls, breaking the spell, and the one in the lead, who is of bronze and granite, reveals a smile that radiates warmth like the sun does. His dark eyes crinkle at the corners, and although a second ago he looked utterly forbidding, he now looks forbidding but with a smile on his face. They break formation and wander around chatting to different groups, and there are probably a hundred or so people here now. It's getting big, and starting to get dark.

"Who are they?" I murmur to Jessica.

"Oh, they're from near here, the La Push area, they're part of a Native American tribe who've lived here for centuries called the Quileute. They have a school on the reservation, which is why they're not at Forks High. That big one, his name's Jacob Black. He wasn't always like that, believe me! He's totally gotten huge and filled out in the last year or so. He used to be this smiley, cute little kid, and now look at him! How hot can you get?" Jessica chatters away, and I have to agree.

While I'm trying not to be too conspicuous about looking at him, I just can't seem to tear my eyes away, and he looks around as if he senses it. He's squatting down talking to a bunch of girls several yards away and he turns to see the source of the laser beam on him. Our gazes lock. His eyes are dark, his skin is reddish-brown, and his hair is very long, much longer than I've seen on a boy before. His eyebrows are black and straight, and those eyes have the slight oriental cast you often see with native Americans, they're narrow and piercing above his wide, high cheekbones. Edward's beauty is unreal, Jacob Black's is so real it's like a blow to the chest.

He stands and walks straight to me.

"Hey, I'm Jacob, you must be new. Welcome to town. Are you just visiting, or are you here for a while?" he says, with a voice like velvet and chocolate.

He's as tall as the sky, and he drops down quickly to my level.

"I'm here for a while," I answer.

"Well, who are you then? Do you have a name?"

"I'm Tamara."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Tamara."

He holds out a hand, and his hands are like bear's paws. I register at once that he has an abnormally high body temperature. What could that mean? He's not strictly human. The only supernatural beings I know of who register this high on the thermometer are werewolves. Where am I, Sunnydale?

Jacob sits down, and starts talking to Mike. Jessica is goggling, Angela is stammering, Mike is well aware and none too pleased that all the girls in the vicinity have turned to jelly but he's still trying to be friendly. He must want to punch Jacob's lights out, but who could? No-one is big enough.

After a desultory chat with Mike, Jacob turns back to me. He asks about me, and he is nothing like Edward. He is not tortured and tormented, he seems balanced and at peace. He's sharp and funny and he doesn't sound like he thinks he's doomed and he'll commit self-harm any second, he sounds basically good-natured and happy. I don't know why he has singled me out, after all, I am far from the best-looking girl here, so it must be the whole new face syndrome which is still working for me at school as well. We keep talking and he doesn't wander off, even his eyes don't wander, and I could be smitten if I'm not careful. I'm drawn by Edward's depth, it's true, but his depth extends to oceanic levels and I try to maintain an equilibrium for myself, I try not to sink.

Jacob and I talk for quite a while, and he is deep and thoughtful too but he doesn't bear the weight of the world, he is positive and forward-thinking. And I look at the size of him, and feel faint. He's very young, probably around seventeen, and I can't and shouldn't even begin to imagine what he would be like as a lover but I can't stop myself. I have had a few lovers, but none for years, and it's unprecedented for me to suddenly want anybody like this. I'm in turmoil.

Meanwhile, he's been saying something to Mike and he glances back to me, and I don't know what he reads in my face but his eyes flare - he's understood the way I'm looking at him. His reaction confirms something for me. He may be a seventeen year old boy, but he's also a wolf, an animal.

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	8. Chapter 8 Freedom of Association

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Eight

Freedom of Association

By Sunday afternoon, Allyson still isn't home. This guy must be really something. She texted last night to say she'd be spending the night, and she'd tell me all about it today.

I do some homework, and generally mooch around, listening to music and trying to read. After an attempt at drawing pictures, although I am no artist, I go out to the garden and pull up a few weeds. Once I'm tired of the outdoors I wander back in and put on a Debussy cd, and lie on my back on the floor wondering if I have a predicament.

Maybe I do, maybe I don't. It is by no means a frequent thing that my mother stays out overnight.

I don't know if she'll be home for dinner but I decide I'll cook anyway, and I make a huge pot of bolognese sauce, figuring it'll last the two of us a couple of days. I'm so bored and lonely by now that even chopping up onions is a useful occupation of my time.

But just as I sit down to eat there is a knock on the door. I open it, and there is Jacob Black, huge and smiling.

"I was just passing," he says casually.

"Oh, hey there," I reply, downplaying my astonishment. "Would you like to come in?"

He has to duck his head to get through the door frame. He sits down at the table still smiling at me, and I say I was just about to have dinner, and would he like some? His grin gets even wider.

"You might be sorry you asked. My eating is a sight to behold," he says.

I dish him up some spaghetti and sauce and he demolishes it, although I see he's trying pitifully to restrain himself.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have come at dinner time," he shrugs unapologetically, and I give him more. I've nowhere near finished my bowl yet.

"You must just about consume an entire cow at every sitting," I say, and he nods.

"Just about," he agrees. "And then the rest. Whole wheatfields and tomato plantations."

Talking about his appetite is unsettling, to say the least. I watch him with pure pleasure, at how he's not just shoveling the food in, he's relishing it.

"This is _really_ good," he enthuses, talking with his mouth full, and I'm glad he's done it, because it reminds me that for all his size and confidence and maturity, he's still a boy, albeit in a man's body. I know my bolognese is delicious because Allyson and I have competed for years with pasta sauces, and we are both very skilled in the kitchen. I'm gratified to find him so appreciative, although I do wonder if he'd simply show the same voraciousness if I'd handed him fries with ketchup.

His next statement tells me not to underestimate him.

"There's oregano in this, isn't there? And a little thyme?" he says. Of course, he is a wolf. His sense of smell is far better than any human's.

"Not telling," I say. "Family secret."

He is hugely self-assured, he laughs easily, and he has come here because he likes me. Hasn't he?

Before either of us can say anything else my phone rings, and it's Edward. I excuse myself to Jacob, and take the phone into the next room. Edward and I have seen each other at school of course, but we've not really had much interaction since last weekend. I figured he's avoiding me again, pmsing, as Alice might say. He says since we have to present our play soon, can he come round for a rehearsal.

"Actually, it's not that convenient right now, I'm sorry Edward. Could we do it one night this week? I have a visitor," I tell him.

"Who is it?" he asks.

"His name is Jacob Black," I say, and the phone goes dead. Maybe he's out of range; it sounded as though he was in his car.

I'm back in the kitchen, talking with Jacob when there is another knock on the door. I have no idea who it could be, unless Allyson's lost her key, and I open it ready to tell her off for staying out so long. Edward strides past me, looking angry.

"Cullen," Jacob says, fork halfway to his mouth, the beginning of a frown showing.

"Black," Edward returns tightly, frown fully in place. I don't know what this means at all.

"Tamara, may I have a word with you, please?" Edward says to me, eyes still on Jacob, who is now sitting with his elbows on the table, regarding Edward with a fixed and unreadable expression. He may be an uninvited guest, and he may only have known me since yesterday, but Edward is the interloper here.

"Excuse us, Jacob," I murmur, and take Edward into our front room.

He turns on me immediately.

"What is _he_ doing here?" he hisses.

"Having dinner," I answer, stating the obvious.

Edward appears livid, raking his hair and pacing.

"I didn't know you knew Jacob Black," he says.

"I didn't - well, I met him yesterday."

"Yesterday? And he's in your house today? That's pretty quick work."

I don't know why he should be so angry.

"I think it's up to me who is in my house. What's the matter with you?"

"He's dangerous!"

"What? You think everyone's dangerous, Edward."

"Do you know your guest is entertaining thoughts about you that are less than gentlemanly?"

"Oh. Well..." I answer, at a loss. Of course I didn't know that. How could I? But even if he is - what's so dangerous about that?

Edward looks appalled. "I can hear them from here," he tells me. "But don't even think of asking me to repeat them. Do you know what he is?"

I've had enough.

"Welcome in my home?" I answer, and if Edward could blanch, I think he would have.

"Look, Edward, thanks for dropping by. It's lovely to see you, as always, and now I'll go back to my guest and his thoughts, and you and I can catch up at school during the week."

I'm dismissing him, and he doesn't like it at all, as it seems there's no way he's willing to go and leave me alone with Jacob. I wonder what has transpired between them in the past to cause this huge animosity on Edward's part. From the looks of things it doesn't appear as though Jacob reciprocates it. And I honestly don't understand. Why should Edward care that someone is displaying any interest in me? He's been pretty clear about his feelings, or lack of them.

I show him to the door, and I know this isn't over yet, he's going to start on at me about it the next time he sees me. I think of Alice's vision and think how wrong it was.

Jacob stays a bit longer and I give him some cake, as Allyson loves to bake and we always have sweet treats around. He leaves with a mega-watt smile, and a promise to see me soon. I clear up, wondering what's going on.

"He's a kid, he's a kid," I keep telling myself, as if it will stop me from having this over-the-top reaction to his sheer physicality. He looks like a man; he looks like he's in his mid-twenties, but he's a boy. It's not like it is with Edward, who is seventeen physically, but has been alive for much longer than that. Jacob is a genuine teenager. I'm going to have to talk about this with Allyson, if she can tear herself away from her lover long enough to remember where she lives.

It's not late but I don't really feel like sleeping. Having reached the point where there's nothing left to do downstairs, I go up and run myself a bath. I lie in it for ages, soaking in the warmth with my eyes closed, determinedly thinking of anything but either of my recent guests.

Then wrapped in a towel, I enter my bedroom, and get the shock of my life. Edward is in there.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing? Who do you think you are? How _dare_ you trespass in my house?" I demand, my volume increasing with each question.

He has the grace to look embarrassed, I think because of my state of undress. As I get louder, the towel loosens and I have to clutch at it.

"We need to talk," he says, trying not to look directly at me.

"How did you get in here? You can get right back out!" I'm yelling now. I am furious.

"I climbed. I need to speak to you. I need to warn you."

"Warn me? Warn me about intruders who might break in and sneak around in my bedroom?" I shout.

I want to hit him, although I know it would be completely ineffective. But it would make me feel better, so I do it anyway. I can concentrate my strength, and pack quite a punch. I'm not an advocate of violence by any means, but I'm so angry, and he's not taking any notice of my words. My fist connects with his chest, and the impact surprises him and makes him stagger backwards. It's taken a lot of energy from me to hit him so hard, and I stand there panting and nursing my hand. He's like stone, literally, his body is very hard, and my hand hurts.

"Are you okay?" he asks, coming forward, and I hiss, "Stay away from me, you trespasser!"

"Could you put some clothes on?" he says, and now I'm incredulous.

"You are in my _bedroom_, may I point out?" I say icily, and he nods, looking away now, as the towel is slipping precariously. "I do not entertain in here, and I wear what I want when I am _alone_ in my bedroom, as I _expect_ to be."

I am very uncomfortable though, and I snatch up the pyjamas lying on the bed and go to the bathroom to put them on. When I return he's sitting on the bed.

"Jacob Black is a wolf," he says, without preamble.

"I know. So?" I answer. This isn't what he was expecting, and he glowers.

"He's a powerful predator - "

"Isn't that similar to what you are? I hear a clanging sound. It must be the pot calling the kettle black!"

"Tamara, vampires and wolf-changers are mortal enemies. Here in Forks we have a truce, but it's an uneasy truce. They see themselves as guardians of the people, and they don't trust my family. They know about our vow, of course, but they're just waiting for the slightest opportunity to launch a war."

"Hold on, Edward. Jacob doesn't attack people, so I'm in no danger from him _at all_, am I? You're just concerned because you don't like him!"

"There have been accidents. Wolves are ferocious. They have issues with temper. If he's around you and something sets him off, you could be hurt."

I am getting really, really fed up with Edward Cullen.

"Look, you are not the boss of my life. We have freedom of association in this country, remember? You can't tell me who I'm allowed to talk to, or not allowed, according to the Law of Edward. I'm getting tired of all your doom. And I'm getting tired of you going on about how much danger I'm in all the time, and of your attitude that you are going to be my protector. You're just utterly patronising. The biggest danger I find myself in is that I could be patronised to death by you!" I say. "Now go away."

He looks pained, I've hurt him, but he isn't budging.

"Tamara, I came to tell you that something very serious has happened. You know Carlisle is the head of the emergency department at the hospital? A man was brought in late last night with a torn throat. That's not your everyday urban injury. There's a rogue vampire around, or more than one, as our kind tend to form families. Jacob must know, and he'll know it was nothing to do with the Cullens, but his people want us gone, and this will give them the perfect reason to drive us out. If there's a war, and you're associating with Jacob, you'll be caught up in it. And if there's a war, Tamara, it will be horrific."

I am quiet, thinking about this new turn events have taken. Vampires attacking people, wolves attacking vampires, supernatural beings slaughtering one another - he is right, it is horrific. I look up at him.

"What's going to happen? What does Carlisle think?" I ask.

"He's going to approach Jacob's father Billy, with the offer that we and the wolves team up and hunt down whoever killed that unfortunate man last night. I'm sure Billy will agree to it, and the younger ones will be eager to test themselves. Billy is the chief, but he's in a wheelchair. All the tribe respect him and his word is law, but he won't be involved in any hunting or fighting. The actual physical leadership will pass to Jacob, who has no experience."

"Jacob?" I whisper. He'd be stronger than an ox, but the thought of him under attack from vampires is awful. He wouldn't have done much fighting, if any, and true vampires, bloodsucking ones, live for violence.

"What do you feel for him, Tamara?" Edward asks, and he suddenly seems anxious, even vulnerable.

"I only met him yesterday," I answer, which isn't an answer. I don't actually want to say something resembling quivering lust.

Edward sighs. "He wants you. Do you want him? He's too young for you."

"You're trying to be my boss again," I say irritably. And anyway, what's it to him? Why is he looking at me like this? His eyes are darker today, so he can't have fed for a while. And there's not a lot of light in my room; his face is all shadows.

Jacob _is_ way too young for me, by about a hundred years, but Edward isn't. There would be something between me and Jacob if I let it happen, but for all that I am so strongly attracted to him, Jacob doesn't tug at my mind the way Edward does.

"Why didn't you just tell me this at school? A few hours wouldn't have made any difference. Why did you have to come here?" I ask him.

_If you're so not interested in me, why are you lurking in my bedroom?_ This last is silent.

He touches my cheek with one finger, a tiny touch of frost and chill, and he doesn't answer. In a rush, I understand that I want him too, this man right here. I want him to kiss me, I want to know how cold his mouth is, I want to feel it. I'm heating up, and even in this light he couldn't miss the flush that appears in my face. He has much better night vision than a human.

Shaking his head, he stands and moves to the window.

"I'll stay around your house," he says. "I mean, around the _outside_. You'll be safe. Sleep well."

And he's gone.

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Hey, I had an idea. I made my female lead an OC because I found BS too insipid. But, dear reader (because there's only one of you), what if I go back and change all mentions of Tamara's name, and call her Bella? And turn Allyson into Renee? It would be an interesting exercise, don't you think, to see if I got more readers once Bella was securely in place and the story didn't have an OC? Hmm...

Stand by.


	9. Chapter 9 It Was Vampires

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Nine

It Was Vampires

A couple of hours later, I'm lying in bed and haven't yet managed to fall asleep. It's about one o'clock when I'm suddenly struck by the most awful thought. Allyson still isn't home, and I was expecting her hours ago. There's a mad vampire on the loose. Allyson and I are different to humans, we must smell different - what if something's happened to her? My thoughts are a frightened torrent. I leap out of bed and pace for a couple of minutes, then decide. Edward said he would spend the night outside my house. Why has he suddenly decided to be my night-watchman? I'm going to look for him.

Within seconds, I'm outside, without having even taken the time to put shoes on, and my feet are already hurting from standing on stones and twigs. We have neighbors, but the houses are quite far apart, and there are a lot of trees and a lot of shrubs. There are plenty of places for a blood-crazed predator to lie in ambush, and while I can make myself long-sighted in good light by changing the curvature of my lenses, I can do little to enhance my sight in darkness.

I scamper right around the exterior of my house, not able to see much and aware that I am making as much noise as a small bear. The blood-crazed predator of my imagination wouldn't have too much trouble finding me.

Luckily Edward doesn't either. He materialises silently next to me and asks in amazement, "What are you doing out here? Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Oh Edward, my mother hasn't come home. She's been out since yesterday. After what you told me I'm so worried. Do we smell different? Is it possible a vampire would want her because of her blood?"

He has his hands on my shoulders, and he draws me to him momentarily, bending his head over me and inhaling deeply. "Yes, you smell distinctive. Yes, one of my kind would want your blood. I've told you this. Your scent drives me out of my mind."

I'm shaken and stirred, a cocktail of emotion at hearing what he's just said. But he lets me go and talks quickly. "Where did your mother go? When did you last hear from her? Do you know who she's with? Can you tell me anything?"

"She was going on a date. He was taking her to Seattle," I answer.

Edward is on his cell, I'm guessing to Carlisle, immediately.

"They're all going to look for her. All my family. They'll find her, Tamara. I'll stay with you. They're going to come here first, to get something of hers so they'll know the scent and they can track her. Can you find something? Some clothing?"

We go inside and I get Allyson's scarf, hanging on a hook next to the front door - the scarf she wraps around her throat. Her throat which I am suddenly aware with a brutal clarity, may not currently be intact. She would never be out of contact with me for this long if everything was all right. If she has been hurt she will heal; I am not worried I might lose her. But she can feel pain, and she can feel afraid. I am very, very frightened.

The Cullens arrive so quickly they must have driven well over the speed limit to get here. They are very impressive as they come in. Except for Alice they are all tall, and including Alice, so, so beautiful. They look savage and strong. They hand Ally's scarf around amongst themselves, and Carlisle puts a hand on my shoulder.

"We will bring your mother home, Tamara," he says with absolute certainty.

Once they're gone, there is nothing to do but wait. I don't want Edward to go outside again, I don't want to be alone with my fear, so I ask him to stay with me.

"You should sleep," he says, propelling me upstairs.

"Sleep? How can I?" I ask him. He pulls my covers back, lifts me easily in his arms and places me on the bed, pulling the covers up over me.

"You're tired. You need to sleep. There's nothing you can do now, and you'll want to be alert when your mother gets home. Worrying about her will achieve nothing. No harm can come to you tonight, Tamara."

"Will you hold me, Edward?" I ask. I need the comfort. He looks as though he has misgivings about this request, but he lies down next to me, although on top of the blankets. He slips an arm under my neck and I curl into him, my head on his cool, hard chest, undisturbed by heartbeats or the rise and fall of breath, my arm across him.

It must be hours later when I am woken by his phone ringing.

"Yes," is all he says, before ending the call.

"They've found her. There was a man with her as well. Carlisle is taking them to our house and we're to meet them there. Get some clothes, and bring some for Allyson."

"What's happened? Has she been hurt? How is she? Where was she?" Questions are tumbling out of me.

"Tamara, she's very badly hurt. She was attacked. It was vampires," Edward says, and I can hear cold fury in his voice. We get to his car and I sit nearly numb with horror, but Edward has a lot to say.

"Carlisle is going to need to question you Tamara, about what you and Allyson are, so he knows how to treat her. He thinks it's best for all concerned not to take her to hospital if it can be avoided. I imagine you don't want to advertise your unusualness, and we don't want to draw attention to vampire activity. I'm going to need to speak to Billy and Jacob and the Quiluete clan immediately. This has to stop right now. And Tamara, you'll have to stay at our house from now on, until it's all over. We need as many of us as possible to hunt for the rogue vampires, and with your scent all over your house, now they've had a taste of Allyson they'll be looking for you. Our house can withstand a siege, Carlisle designed it that way just in case the need should ever arise. Whoever hurt your mother will be mine, Tamara. There are a few ways to kill a vampire, and I'll use all of them."

"Edward, stop, please," I say faintly.

At his house Esme greets us, and her face is full of sorrow. She leads me wordlessly to the piano room, and there on a divan lies my mother, my Allyson, her throat flayed and gaping, although Carlisle is gently swabbing it. Her skin is deathly pale as though every drop of blood, every cell of plasma, every platelet has been drained out of her. I moan, and slump against Edward.

"She's full of morphine, she is in no pain. Tamara, can I speak to you now, or do you need a minute?" Carlisle asks me.

"A minute please," I say through sheets of tears although I am not sobbing, they are pouring out of me noiselessly. I sink to the floor and take her hand and whisper to her, telling her that I am there, that she will be all right, that everything will be all right. I have never sustained an injury as severe as this, and I know she hasn't either. We have never lost blood like this. I know her wound will heal, but how can she replace the blood?

"Carlisle?" I ask, and he steps to me. "Can we give her a transfusion?"

"If your blood is compatible, yes. I have everything I need. I'll get ready," he tells me. He has a lot of questions and I answer them as best as I can. We don't know much about ourselves, my mother and I, and it's not a topic we've ever been able to research.

"I don't know how much blood I can take from you," Carlisle confesses, as he looks at my blood pressure reading.

"Take all of it, I don't care. Whatever you need to do, just do it," I say. I haven't taken my eyes from her. "What about the man?"

"I've given him blood, but he's in a very serious condition and Rosalie is with him. I'm afraid his outlook isn't positive, Tamara," he says gravely.

There is a crash from elsewhere in the house, muted by distance and walls.

"What was that?" I ask in alarm.

"I would say Edward has punched a hole through a door," Carlisle answers grimly. "When we find whoever is responsible for this, he will want to make them pay."

"That's not necessary. I just want them dead," I say, and Carlisle puts the syringe into my arm.

He takes as much as he dares, and he looks after Allyson as I sit nearby, huddled in a blanket and drinking sweet tea. Alice hovers over me, fussing, and I haven't seen Edward since we got here.

"He's smashing things," Alice tells me when I ask about him.

Emmett brings in some sort of folding bed for me so I can stay with Allyson, and Rosalie comes in with sheets and blanket and makes it up.

"I hope you'll be comfortable. I'm sorry for what has happened," she says, and I know how sorry they all are, and how angry.

Carlisle has set up a monitoring system for Allyson, and I hear the quiet beeps as I lie in the makeshift bed next to her. It's nearly morning now, and I'm starting to have one or two practical thoughts.

I'll have to contact Allyson's workplace to say she won't be in. I can't even begin to guess how long it will take for her to recover to a point where she is able to work again, so I don't know what I'll say. And I don't know what to do about school. Obviously I'm not going to go for a few days, but I can't stay away for too long. Or maybe I can? Maybe I could write a letter, signing it with Allyson's name saying we're moving interstate and I won't be back? Could I do that for her workplace too? I haven't looked after myself for so long, I don't know how to make these decisions. I've either been married, and my husband took care of everything, or I was like a street dweller, stealing scraps of food and living on the periphery. Allyson saved me.

The door opens and Edward is coming in with a tray of food. There is no reason for them to keep food in the house, so someone has gone out and bought it for me.

"How are your hands?" I ask him.

"Fine," he answers, pushing them into his pockets, but not before I have seen that they are unmarked. They should have been torn after the damage he was doing to them a few hours ago, but he heals very quickly, far more quickly than me and Allyson.

"Edward, I have to thank you. I'm extremely grateful for everything you're doing for me, and everything your family is doing. I owe you a lot."

"You don't owe me anything. And this isn't just for you, this is something we have to do for ourselves as well. Carlisle and I are seeing Billy and Jacob this afternoon. We're mobilizing."

I wonder why it's Edward being involved in the planning of this - I'm not sure how old everyone in this strange family is, but isn't Emmett more senior? And Carlisle said that whoever attacked Allyson was very strong, and vicious. We still don't know who it was, or how many there are, but the Cullens and the Quiluete are facing very grave danger.

The Cullens and the Quiluete - Edward and Jacob. They're far less breakable than humans, but they're still breakable. I'm fairly sure I can't be killed, but both of them can. I don't want a hair on their heads hurt and I want Edward to know it. I stand up and approach him slowly and carefully, and he watches me, his hands still in his pockets, his brows drawn together as he wonders what I'm doing. He can't read my mind. Is he trying? I'm thinking of Alice's vision. I don't know if what I want to do will be welcome, but that's precisely why I'm going to do it, to find out.

He's very still, and he must know now, because you know when someone is going to kiss you. They look at your mouth, and that's what I'm doing to him. His lips part, and mine take forever to reach them. I stand on tiptoes instead of extending myself, because I want this to be real. My hands are on his chest, to maintain my balance, otherwise I'll topple. I touch my mouth to his very gently, realising that he has tilted his head to receive me, but his lips don't return the kiss, they don't move at all. He doesn't want it.

Pulling back, I drop my head to hide my expression. I'm extremely upset, and not only upset but mortified.

"Tamara?" he says in a low voice that almost sounds like a growl. His hands come out of his pockets, one lifting my chin and the other on the back of my head, under my hair. I glance upwards in surprise to see him stare at me intently for a long moment and then his gaze drops to my lips. This time _he_ kisses _me_. He's not gentle, as I was, he is hard and rough, and I feel his teeth. It's just as well he's holding me as I lose all sensation of contact with the floor. I'm delirious and soon panting into his mouth from the onslaught as his tongue slides over my lips, past my teeth, seeking mine, and the pressure against my mouth doesn't let up. This is a mauling. It's raw and expressive and almost completely uncontrolled.

He pushes me away abruptly and says, "I'll see you tonight, after the meeting. Esme will be the only one home today with you; do not under any circumstances leave the house."

My leaving the house is not a possibility. I'm too limp to move, never mind walk through the door.

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We're staying with Tamara for the time being. Thank you for your responses.


	10. Chapter 10 I Guess We Kissed

I shouldn't do this when I'm tired. I'm tired now, and I've read over it, but I don't think I'm in a state to pick up any mistakes. As always, disclaimer applies. I dissociate myself from mistakes made due to tiredness!

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Ten

I Guess We Kissed

After he has gone, I go to check on the man, who Rosalie stayed with all night. Carlisle has stripped him and dressed his wounds, and from all the dressings on him I can surmise that he has been mutilated. I don't know how a body could sustain that much damage and still draw breath. The monsters who did this were playing with him - even the skin I can see that's not covered in gauze shows bitemarks, contusions and cuts, and the grayness of his skin indicates that they drained him just short of killing him. Why?

It's only Monday, and this horror happened on Sunday. I can't understand how the world has changed so fast.

Esme comes in and I return to Allyson and sit at her side for the entire day. After a few hours Esme brings me food and stays while I use the bathroom. When I return, I see by her expression that she wants to talk.

"We're a little like you two - our family," she tells me. "I don't know what you know of our history, but Carlisle has assembled this motley bunch who were such lost souls in their human lives, and now we're all found, and we have each other. It's good to belong. Our connection and love gives us such strength and understanding, and tolerance and compassion. You are obviously devoted to Allyson, and I imagine she is to you, too."

"Yes. She's everything to me," I agree, wishing fervently that my mother could open her eyes and I could see for myself that she knows me, that the damage is reparable, that the healing is underway.

"Edward still seems lost," I remark, as Esme remains quiet.

"Hmm. I'm afraid he is. The rest of us are partnered, and he feels his aloneness amongst us very keenly. It's not the natural state for our kind to be without a mate, and he thinks his existence lacks meaning. It is very difficult for him, because few vampires wish to take the oath we have taken, and he couldn't be with someone who is unsworn. We eschew the company of other vampires almost altogether, so he doesn't really meet any, and he couldn't allow himself to fall in love with a human girl and turn her, because he considers it a mortal sin. If he ever killed again, I believe he would want to kill himself, and even if he didn't the self-hatred would consume him. He wouldn't let one of us turn anyone either, because he feels we are cursed, cursed to be beasts and abominations, the lowest of any living creatures."

"He certainly is hard on himself," I say. Some of this I already know, and some of it I could guess from my long conversations with him about the play, and those following on from the play.

After assuring herself of my comfort Esme leaves me there, and it's a long day, although I sleep again as I have become so tired. When I awaken I maintain my vigil over Allyson, looking for any signs at all that her condition is improving. It seems that it is, a little color returns, but she needs more blood. Carlisle has said we need to wait twenty four hours before taking any more from me.

After school Alice and Jasper arrive and sit with me and they say Esme rang the office, both the school's and my mother's, to say that the two of us had been called out of town on urgent family business and would be away for a few days.

Edward isn't home until well into the evening, and he takes me by the hand to pull me out of the room.

"Jasper will watch your mother, you need a break, you look dreadful. You need to get away for a few minutes. Come outside with me," he says. He's brought me some dinner, and they have a deck with a table and chairs outside their kitchen, and he watches while I eat.

"What happened at your meeting?" I ask him.

"We're going after them, the wolves and us, we're all going, starting tonight. The wolves can't use their phones of course, but they have a pack mind, they're all connected mentally - did you know that? In human form their thoughts are individual, but when they phase they're telepathic with one another. I can read them, so we can communicate even though it's one-way. Carlisle and I are starting from where we found Allyson, and we've divided Seattle into sections, we're splitting into pairs and we're going to find whoever it is, and stop them, permanently."

"Are you used to fighting?" I ask him, worriedly.

"Not this kind, no. My brothers and I fight all the time, and I tend to win because of course I can anticipate their moves. Emmett is by far the strongest of us. Jasper has a gift that he can influence people's feelings, so when he fights he can be disarming. Carlisle hasn't fought anybody for decades. Alice will come as a sort of an advisor, as she may have visions that will help, and Rosalie - well, she can be ferocious. The wolves aren't experienced at all, but they're strong and fast, and no vampire would be expecting that wolves would collaborate with us, so that will give us an advantage. The main thing is, we think it's unlikely there would be many of them - covens tend to be small as too many egos cause trouble. We're relying on out-numbering them."

He seems to hesitate, momentarily. "Your wolf is very concerned for you, by the way."

"_My_ wolf? Jacob? Did he say so?" I ask.

"No," Edward answers, a little tightly.

"You read his mind? Isn't that intrusive?"

Edward's jaw sets, though a muscle flickers in it.

"Oh, he was shouting it out. You've made quite an impression. He wants to dismember whoever hurt your mother, and he wants a stint as your personal bodyguard, and I won't tell you what else he wants. It's not repeatable."

The party at the beach seems an age ago, sitting with Jacob on the sand watching the firelight play across his face, seeing his hair as long as mine but black as midnight, listening to him laugh frequently and readily, and feeling the heat coming off him. And then having him turn up the next day, sitting across from me at my kitchen table eating like a pig at a trough and making me smile with sheer delight at his candor, and enthusiasm. That was before the worry started, before I suspected something was wrong. I'd been so carefree I had the luxury of wondering which I preferred of the two men I had recently met - and I thought that was worrisome!

I've had a little time now to think about it some more during long quiet hours at Allyson's side trying not to dwell on her condition. I've even imagined asking her opinion.

"Hey, Mom - I've met this guy... but I've also met this _other_ guy..." as if I were some normal teenager.

And a normal mom would say, "Follow your heart."

That's what I figure, although of course, I don't actually know. Nothing about this is normal.

"A vampire or a werewolf?" my distinctly non-normal mom would probably say. "Pack your bags, baby. We're leaving town."

And there I sit, thinking. My choice is between a boy and a man - a young soul and an old one. Someone with optimism and energy, with a love of life that radiates like sunshine from his beautiful russet-colored skin, or someone who knows all the world's poetry and discoveries and wonders and can find so much to deplore about himself.

If I'm honest with myself, it's not something I ever had to weigh up. There was only one of them it was ever going to be, given my prediliction for moods and moodiness. It's not as though the choice was mine to consciously make. However, it may easily be that my chances are far better with the one my natural tendencies don't direct me towards than the one who draws me more.

But that all seems as nothing now, and it's pure self-indulgence to be considering my potential love-life. My mother is lying grievously injured a couple of rooms away, and there is about to be a grisly and dreadful war between opposing factions of super-strong, super-fast preternatural beings.

I've been quiet for a while, occupied with my odd dilemma, and Edward has simply waited courteously, saying nothing.

"Thank you for the food," I tell him, stirring back to politeness, and I stand to go back inside.

"Tamara, just a moment," he says.

I turn back to him. "Yes?"

"What happened this morning, with you and me?" he asks.

Taken unawares, I try to think. _Let me see - I went to give you a kiss on the lips, and you devoured my mouth like a fury, I'm not sure why. _

_Can I say this?_

"I guess we kissed," I answer, slowly.

"Did you think that was kissing?" he asks, and that's got to be a trick question. I don't know what to say.

"Why did you do it?" he persists.

"Oh, just give me a minute and I'll deconstruct it for you," I reply. He comes up to me.

"I need to know," he says. "I'm going to look for murderers tonight, and if I find them I'm not going to leave them standing. I'll bring their heads back for you, Tamara, swinging by their hair. Did you kiss me for an experiment? Or for comfort? Or something else? If you want to play with someone, play with the wolf. He probably won't take it, though, any more than I will."

"I wondered how cold you'd be," I murmur.

He doesn't like it. "An experiment," he says, shaking his head.

"I'm so thankful for your help."

"_Gratitude_?" he spits out, sounding angry. "Kiss Carlisle! He's doing more for Allyson than I am."

"Edward, I just felt it. I wanted to. You asked me once if there has to be a reason for things. Maybe there's no reason! You don't love me, you don't want me, but you kissed me back! What's _your_ reason?"

"Yes, I said those things. Maybe I didn't exactly mean them."

"Now what are you talking about?" I feel exasperated. Can either of us be honest here, or are we too afraid? I wonder if he has ever loved before, after what Esme said. If he has, it must have been a long time ago. I could be the closest he's been to a living breathing girl in his entire unlife. His emotions run so deep it's unlikely that he would have played around with any vamp sirens, he's not going to use anybody, or let himself be used. Following this train of thought, he's not going to do what he did this morning unless it means something to him, means a lot. And now he's going out as my champion into the arena, facing an unknown enemy. A lady gives her champion a token, doesn't she? I have nothing to give.

"Okay, Edward, I'll admit, it was an experiment. But it wasn't about the coldness. I wanted to know if you'd let me, I wanted to know what you'd taste like, and I wanted to know if you'd join in. Most of all I wanted to know if we'd connect. It was an invitation. I don't know what you want from me. You've said all this stuff about hanging around me in case something bad happens - I didn't know what you meant, but I do now. But I still don't understand! Am I your atonement? You've killed in the past, so you're going to save me? I don't want to be that!"

"No, you're not my atonement," he says, swallowing. I watch the movement in his throat, and I see the conflict clear on his face, and I want his mouth again, right now. Enough of my own thinking, and enough of talking, it's too hard, and we're not getting anywhere. I want to feel his fierceness, feel him close to biting me, feel my own heart racing and thudding with arousal and his wicked tongue penetrating me in a soft replica of the other, forceful, devastating penetration that I want from him as well. I reach for him and pull him to me and he comes, darkly and thirstily; we're mouth to mouth, hard, and it's everything I want. He is savage, but I am undaunted, and I meet him and match him, and this is my token, it's not one that anyone else can see, but I will leave an imprint on him he won't forget.

He pulls away, unsteadily. "Is this how you feel?" he asks me.

"Yes," I say. It's not something I can downplay, or deny.

"I'll have those heads on a string. And then I'll come for you," he says, and leaves me.

Carlisle is waiting inside, in the piano room, for Allyson's next transfusion. If he notices half my blood supply appears to be in my cheeks he doesn't say anything. Alice comes with a cup of sugary tea, and says "We're going now. I don't know what's going to happen. I've tried to see if I can get any pictures, but nothing so far. It's scary, but at least we'll all be there together. And we've got the wolves along as well. I don't know them, but Edward says they're very dedicated to getting rid of this menace. Wish us luck, Amara darling. Oh, by the way, I thought of something else about the vision I had of you and my brother."

She is smiling. She feels fear, I know she does, and she is trying to distract herself.

"Yes?" I ask.

"I did say you were kissing, didn't I? Did I mention you were in Edward's room, in a _bed_?"

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	11. Chapter 11 Everybody Likes Puppies!

I made up the OC's. Stephenie Meyer made up the real people. Aherm.

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Eleven

Everybody Likes Puppies!

They return shortly before morning, empty-handed. Edward has come in to check on me, Carlisle to check on Allyson.

"We fanned out from where we found your mother, and there was a trail, but we lost it. We know there are three of them, and we won't give up until they're found. These creatures are vicious and sadistic - they're the worst of our kind I have ever seen. Normally vampires kill to feed, and they may take pleasure in it, but it's a matter of survival. In your mother's case, and the unfortunate man lying here as well, it seems they had no intention to kill, just to torture," Edward tells me.

What a night they've all had, and now he needs to go to school!

"Who is the man?" I ask.

"There wasn't any id on him, we don't know. He could be a random victim, or he could be of some significance. I'm wondering if he's your mother's boyfriend, if they were keeping him to get information out of him about Allyson. I'm going to check your house this afternoon, Tamara. I'm sorry to say this, but my guess is that having tasted her blood they'll want more. I don't know why they left her where they did, but they're going to be looking for her and sooner or later they'll look in Forks. And they may know about you."

I'm physically weak after having given blood twice in twenty-four hours, and emotionally I'm near breaking point. I have to dredge up some resilience from somewhere, this is all too shocking.

"They'll know pretty soon that there are other vampires involved, and that wolves have discovered their hideout. They'll have to be very careful now," Carlisle says, presumably in an attempt to reassure me. "Allyson is doing much better, Tamara. Your blood is a miracle, and you make a very good nurse." He gives the briefest of smiles. "Now I'll see to our other guest, I don't know if there's much I can do for him unfortunately, the poor soul."

"I'll stay with him, Tamara," Esme says, with her enormous capacity for kindness and caring. He's not one of her own, but she has compassion to spare.

Returning to the piano room I sit with Allyson most of the day, apart from checking now and again on the man, and Carlisle is right, she is visibly improving. He has left the dressing off her neck, and the skin is repairing itself rapidly, her bruises are fading. In the afternoon she wakes, briefly.

"Tamara, baby?" her voice comes, barely above a whisper.

"I'm here, yes, Ally, I'm here, you're here, we're at the Cullens, Alice's house. Her father is a doctor, he's looking after you. Everything is all right, you're doing great."

Her eyes open wide with shock. "I hardly knew what was happening, Tamara, it was all so fast."

"You don't have to talk about it. You can wait until you're stronger," I try to sound soothing.

"No, Tamara, I have to tell you. It was Eaters. They were terrible, so cruel. Two of them grabbed me, John couldn't do a thing, there was another, and he just snapped John's arms, laughing at him. The other two, a male and a female tore into me, both at once, and I thought I would die from the pain, I wished I _could_ die Tamara, for the first time ever, I wished I could. The thought of you was all that stopped me willing my life done and finished. I must have passed out, I don't know what happened to John. How did I get here?"

"When you didn't come home I knew something was wrong. Alice's brother had come over to help me with some homework, and I told him I was worried, he called his father and they came looking for you."

"But how could they find me? Seattle is a big city."

"Ah..." I hesitate. I have never held a secret from Allyson, but I just don't know if in her present state I can tell her that the ones who saved her are of the same kind as the ones who attacked her.

"John..." she says faintly, as I wrestle with my reticence.

"What was he wearing, and what does he look like?" I ask, not that the man in the other room could be identified by his face.

"Jeans, a blue shirt. He has dark curly hair. He wears his watch on his right hand."

"He's here, too. Carlisle and his wife Esme are looking after him, too. But he's human. He's not doing well. I don't know what will happen with him, Ally," I warn her gently.

"Oh, baby, I'm so tired, so tired," my mother whispers, and she trails off back to sleep. I hope her dreams take her somewhere far from this nightmare.

In the afternoon I am surprised to hear the sound of a motorbike approaching. None of the family have one as far as I know, and the Cullens do not have visitors, apart from the current unexpected bunch, that is. Esme comes to the door, and says, "Tamara, it's someone to see you. It's Jacob Black."

I'm so happy to see him that I leap to the door and throw my arms around his neck.

"Hey, wow," he says, startled but not at all displeased, hands very lightly at my waist, where I can feel them burning. He smiles down at me. "That's quite a greeting."

"Would you like to come in?" I ask, quite forgetting Edward's aversion to him.

"No, I won't, thank you. Can you and I go somewhere to talk?" he says.

Reluctant as I am to leave the house, I agree and accompany him outside. We sit together on the wall only a few yards away, and Jacob clears his throat.

"Tamara, you and I need to have a discussion."

"Yes?"

"Firstly - how is your mother? I know she's been hurt, and I know she's here and not at the hospital.""

"She's not great, but she'll recover."

He sighed. "Okay. Look, I don't even begin to know how to start this conversation, because it's certainly going to be the weirdest one I've ever had - but how much do you know about what's happened?"

It's true - this is going to be a very unusual conversation. A werewolf is asking an immortal how her mother, another immortal, is faring after having been attacked by a gang of vampires, and rescued by the werewolf and his pack, and another gang of vampires.

"Most of it, I think," I admit, and his almond eyes regard me curiously.

"All right. We'll go slowly, anyway. Your mom was out in Seattle and she and her date were set upon by, um..." He trails off, because he doesn't want to be the one to say the word. Everyone knows vampires are fictional creatures, found between the pages of books, and on movie screens. Anyone who thinks they inhabit the real world is crazy.

"I _know_, Jacob. I know about the monsters that are actually real. I know what she was attacked by, and I know about the Cullens, and I know about you, too. I want to thank you for your part in rescuing her." I hug him again, awkwardly as we are side by side. He puts his hands in my hair and strokes gently. I'm the one who has to break the contact, because he shows no inclination to move.

"Any time," he shrugs, adding quickly, "Glad to help. Nothing like this will ever happen again, Tamara, you can be sure of it."

I nod.

"So, you seem to be taking this pretty well, considering..." he comments. "I mean the part about some people around here not being quite what they seem. Did Edward Cullen tell you I'm not your everyday kind of guy? At the same time he told you he isn't either?"

He's calm, just looking at me expectantly.

"No, it wasn't Edward. I knew the second I saw you. Well, not quite then. It was when you came over to speak to me at the party," I reply.

"Mmm." This makes him pause, frowning. "Okay - I have a question. What are _you_?"

I almost want to laugh.

"Tamara - you're not quite like the other girls," he says, quickly. "Let's be completely honest here. Any other girl would be hysterical at what's been going on, and they'd probably be under sedation right now. You're sitting there calmly, as though it's nothing out of the ordinary that you go to school with a family of vampires, and you go beach parties with a bunch of werewolves. Your mother should be dead, but you tell me she's going to be all right. And how on earth would you know I'm a supernatural creature? I could point out that it takes one to know one."

Well, I don't know what answer to give him, since strictly speaking, I don't have an answer. Maybe he thinks I'm trying to evade him, or compose some response that isn't true, because he speaks again before I've replied.

"And Tamara, if you know about me, you'll be aware that I have preternatural senses. Your scent hit me before I ever spoke to you. You are _very_ different."

My scent. I'd never known I had a "scent" until it became an issue.

"Okay. I know you're a wolf, I know you're involved in the patrol Carlisle and Edward have set up to find the vampires, I know the Cullens are vampires, I know all that stuff. I'm not fully human either, but I don't know exactly what I am. I don't know of any name for it, but my mother and I are the same, we can't be fatally hurt. She's recovering well, she's going to be fine, we think."

"Right, that's all new to me. I knew you were different to other girls, but I couldn't figure out what it was. You're immortal? That's totally cool," he grins. He's very handsome.

"You know what, Tamara?" he says then. "You can absolutely tell me to back off here, but I've been thinking. This Operation Find The Bad Vamps we're engaged in is life-risking behaviour, and I don't want to sound melodramatic, but it could be the end of me. I might not even be alive this time tomorrow, so it makes sense to seize the moment. Under normal circumstances asking this would be way premature, but do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"Wh-what?" I stammer, astonished. I am very impressed by his forwardness. What a shame he's not fifty years older, and I've already fallen for someone else.

"Yeah, you know, we could go to the movies, I could take you riding on my bike, and we could kiss and stuff," he suggests, deadpan.

"You just said you might be dead tomorrow," I remind him.

"Yeah, so we should probably start now," he grins.

"Jacob, that's not going to happen. There's something between me and Edward," I tell him, and his grin completely disappears, banished by disappointment and disbelief.

"Are you kidding me?" he demands.

"No, I'm not," I answer.

"Edward Cullen? The bloodsucking leech?" Jacob doesn't attempt to hide his incredulity. "Have you thought about this? For a start, the guy's an iceberg. He can't possibly have kissed you yet because your lips would still be blue. He must be like the inside of a refrigerator. And there'd be no point ever inviting him for dinner - he won't appreciate your spaghetti, Tamara. He wouldn't even know how to use a knife and fork, you'd have to give him a straw so he could suck the insides out of the nearest large mammal. And he and his family creep out everybody in town. It's crazy. You need a nice, normal boyfriend like me. Cuddle me, Tamara, you'll see how warm I am. I'm not going to give you frostbite!"

He is earnest, and all his points are valid, except for calling himself normal. Normal boys are not the size of grizzly bears, with the ability to transform themselves into wolves.

"I'm sorry, Jacob, but that's the way it is," I tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'll ask you again, you might change your mind," he says. "I bet you will. Glacier Boy hasn't got what you need. I saw you checking me out at the party, you know. That was why I came over to talk to you, the vibes you were sending me practically melted my epidermis off."

Now I blush. That was only three days ago.

"You're very pretty when you do that," Jacob murmurs. "I can stand it, but your pet vampire might just go feral if it happens when he's around. If he ever puts his teeth anywhere near you, I'll pull them right out of his face."

"No threats, please Jacob. And no flirting. Now, can we change the subject?"

"Sure. How about a tumble in the grass?"

"Jacob! I said _no_ flirting," I admonish him.

"I mean it literally! Do you like puppies? Come on, everybody likes puppies! I'll phase, and we can play. I'll roll over, and you can tickle my tummy."

"You're _still_ flirting."

"Okay, maybe I am. Now stand clear, because this can be quite spectacular. Oh, and just to let you let you know, I have to be naked for the process, or I just destroy my clothes." He pulls his t-shirt off, revealing a very broad, muscular, copper-tinted chest.

"Go away. Do it somewhere else. You are _not_ getting naked in front of me," I order, hoping my voice is full of conviction.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll go behind a tree," he smirks. "And Tamara, on second thoughts, if you're not going to be my girlfriend, maybe you'd better not tickle my tummy."

Before I can blink, he's engulfed by the shadows beyond the lawn. A minute later an enormous wolf appears, and lopes up to me. Beautiful, sleek and glossy, with a pink tongue lolling out of his mouth and dark eyes shining, he looks like he's laughing. He comes right up to me and nudges me repeatedly with his head until my knees bend and I sink down to the grass. Then he lies next to me and wriggles luxuriantly. He's only getting away with it because in this form I just can't seem to tell him off. He half rolls on top of me, and is even licking me. I feel his teeth nip my shoulder, lightly, teasingly.

Now this is going too far.

"Jacob, how many times do I have to tell you no?" I complain, getting up and walking back towards the house. The wolf is with me at once, curling himself around my legs so that if I proceed I'll fall over, and there is an apology in his hugely expressive eyes. I kneel down and put my arms around his shaggy neck, my face into his thick fur.

"I can't be your girlfriend, but I really need a friend right now, with all that's going on. Can we be friends, Jacob?" I say quietly, near his ear. He is very still, listening to me, and he nods.

"And you'll quit all that inappropriate stuff?" I continue. I didn't know a wolf could shrug, but his shoulders move.

"I mean it," I say threateningly, and he nods again.

"I'm going back in. Thanks for coming around. And Jacob, please be careful, I don't have so many friends that I can afford to lose any."

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Sorry this took so long. If you got this far it means you're still reading! Thanks.


	12. Chapter 12 The Faraway Stars

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Twelve

The Faraway Stars

Presumably once I'm back inside Jacob morphs into his human form, as I hear the bike roar away, and not long after that Edward arrives home. It's early evening by now and it feels like ages since I've seen him, although it's not really. I'm sitting with Allyson, who has been asleep for a few hours, and I stand up eagerly, wondering what sort of a greeting he and I will give each other. I've been a little nervous about seeing him, even a little excited, but to my dismay he stops short as soon as he sees me, and his expression is one of distaste.

"What is that awful smell?" he frowns.

I look around, wondering what has upset him so much. I can't smell anything, except a lingering odour of antiseptic, as the Cullens have been getting their cleaner to keep the room as sterile as possible. I don't know how they explain the irregularities about their home, such as the pristine cookware and tableware, and there being nowhere near enough food in the cupboards for such a large family, but I guess they cover it somehow.

Edward approaches me, looking suspicious and angry.

"It's coming from you! It's the smell of dog. Jacob Black is all over you! What has happened? Has he been here? He's touched you. How dare he?"

"Edward, calm down. He came to see if Allyson is all right. We went outside and talked awhile," I say quickly.

"You weren't just talking. He has no right to be anywhere near you."

Edward's apparent jealousy is in equal parts mystifying, thrilling and annoying.

"Jacob helped to save my mother," I point out.

Edward sighs. "Yes," he agrees, slumping suddenly, hand raking his hair in that familiar gesture of his. "Can we go somewhere else for a minute?" he asks.

I'm glad to, in case Allyson wakes, because I'm not quite ready to explain him.

On the deck he turns to me, his expression heavy. "They've been to your house, Tamara - the rogue coven. They've torn it up. It's absolutely certain that they'll know about you now, and they may even know where you and Allyson are. If they don't yet, it won't take long."

Shivering as though a goose has walked on my grave, I inform him, "My mother came to briefly this afternoon, Edward. She was able to tell me a bit about what happened. There were three of them, two males and a female."

"Right, we'll get the wolves here, we'll have a twenty-four hour guard on the house," he says, flipping his phone open. He's calling Billy, he talks tersely, then ends the call and turns his attention to me again. "We can't predict how they're going to play it. If there are only three of them, there are too many of us for them to take on. But they're going to know Allyson will be getting better, and they're going to know you're ripe for the taking. Do you realise you're manna from heaven for vampires? A victim they can't kill, whose blood regenerates itself constantly, someone they can feed from every few days at just the perfect interval?"

I shiver again, this time almost violently. "Edward, that's really horrible."

"They could imprison you and more or less _milk_ you, and they'd never need to hunt again," he continues.

"I thought vampires love hunting?" I say weakly.

"Oh, Tamara, we do. But I've told you, your scent is like nothing I've ever come across before and I can't begin to imagine how you would taste. I can't let myself. You would be ambrosia. They must be crazed with bloodlust at the thought of you. You would be unbearably intoxicating, I'd never need anything in the world again if I had you."

What is he doing, speaking to me like this? His voice has become deeper and very sensuous as he says these terrible things. I'm half terrorised, half aroused.

Then he breaks the spell he has woven by asking bleakly, "What has happened between you and Jacob Black?"

"He was here, and he admitted to being a wolf-changer. He phased, and I gave him a hug, in his wolf form."

Edward's jaw clenches.

"Can we clarify something? I don't just go around kissing people randomly. If you do, please let me know right now. If you have any feelings towards Jacob, tell me. I'll just have to handle it, although I don't promise to handle it well. If you don't, I'm telling him to stay away from you. He was marking you with his scent, Tamara, the way animals mark out their territory. But you're not part of his territory, are you?"

"No, I'm not. But Edward, why are you so concerned about me and Jacob? I don't know what's going on between _you_ and me. To be honest, it feels like an earthquake, but I'm so shaken anyway, I don't know if it's you, or everything else, or what. What _is_ going on?"

He's very still, and I wait for his answer. It's a long time in coming, and when it arrives, it's like a window pane shattered by a baseball, something quick and unexpected and sending out shards.

"I don't know exactly either, I don't recognize any of it because it's never happened to me before. I suspect I'm falling in love with you."

We're both quiet then, me staring at the floor boards beneath my feet, suddenly noticing the woodgrain with its fine texture and finish, while I'm trying to subdue my quickened breathing. Then I look up at the darkening sky, the familiar pinpoint stars on a clear night, which is unusual around here. Edward must be waiting for me to respond, and I'm checking back through my past to see if anything that has ever happened to me has prepared me for this moment, this instant, when a man tells me he is falling in love with me, and I feel the same way.

I am unprepared, I have no reference points.

"Are you going out searching again tonight?" I ask.

There is no answer. I bite my lip.

"Is there anything I can eat?"

"Of course, forgive me, of course, it's in the kitchen. I brought you dinner. I'll get it," he replies, but he doesn't move.

I rise out of the chair and I stand in front of him, taking a deep breath. His face is at the level of my chest, which moves with my inhalation. Being far too polite to ogle my breasts, which are right in front of him, he turns his head away. And anyway, my heart's right there too, dark and pumping. He probably can't bear it.

"Edward, I feel the same," I say simply, and though it is quiet, I feel as though I've made a declaration, a proclamation, that it's ringing through the trees surrounding us and bouncing off surfaces, that it will reach the faraway stars and beyond.

Bounding to his feet, he grasps me by the shoulders in a split second, and this time his lips are the gentlest they have ever been, soft and questing. He doesn't seek to part mine, he seeks the proof of what I have just told him. My mouth responds helplessly, opening to his, and my arms weave around his neck as his slip to my waist, holding me lightly. We are deeply, deeply connected at a level I didn't know existed, and when our tongues search for one another's it is a holy communion.

I don't know how long we spend in this state, but it's long enough that I am breathless, and I know my heart is pounding. He kisses my jaw and throat, always returning to my mouth to claim it again in between forays elsewhere. Both of us are making wordless sounds, and I'm sure neither of us are in the least inclined to stop until there is a reminder that I haven't eaten for hours from my gurgling, protesting stomach.

"Excuse me," I say, embarrassed, as we draw apart reluctantly.

"Not at all. I'm not taking care of you. I admit I got carried away," he smiles. "Human. It's not as if I could forget, when you're so _warm_."

"Yes, well, I need to feed every few hours to retain that warmth, not every few days," I remind him, and he chuckles.

"I'm sorry. I'll get your dinner, wait here."

Coming back with a plate of chicken and salad he grimaces. "Fancy eating this stuff! It must be vile."

"No, it's pretty nice, actually. Don't you remember?"

"Oh, there wasn't food like that around when I was still in the chewing stage of my life," he says. "It was mostly stale bread, as I recall."

He's clearly enjoying watching me even though he sees people eat at the cafeteria at school most days of the week. But at school, he's too busy trying not to catch anyone's eye, and trying not to be caught staring at me. Considering the gravity of our current circumstances, I'm as happy as can be, sitting here with him, smiling and gently teasing.

"When you've finished eating, may I kiss you again?" he asks.

I blush, saved from having to reply because I have a mouthful of food. Of course he can. He can kiss me all night, although I'm going to want more than that, and soon, too. The kissing just now was starting to light a fire I haven't felt in a long time, and one that promises to burn far brighter than it ever has with anyone else.

Edward's fingertip traces a gentle and wondering touch across the quick scarlet of my cheekbone.

"I'm afraid you'll find me a very jealous boyfriend," he murmurs. "I can't help it. I feel very possessive towards you and I have for a while. I'll be even more so, now."

"So, you're my boyfriend?" I ask him.

"Yes, I am," he answers gravely.

"And I'm your girlfriend?"

"I consider you to be, yes. I hope you agree."

"Because we kissed?"

"Because of a lot of things. Because I admire you and respect you and want your company. Because I think of you constantly. Because I want to protect you. Because I love it when you laugh, and because you're funny and sarcastic and thoughtful and you make me answer your questions. Because I find you so beautiful. Because I _want_ you."

All of a sudden, I've had enough to eat. I'd rather have Edward's tongue in my mouth than a forkful of lettuce and tomato with balsamic dressing. I want to lick and suck at his throat the way he did mine. I want to taste.

But though I'm _perfectly_ happy with the boyfriend-girlfriend status, I have to address the possessiveness. I will not be owned.

"Well, you know I'm going to spend time with Jacob, right?"

He stills. "Are you? Why?"

"I like him!"

"He likes you, too, but perhaps more than in the way you're thinking. I've been privy to his thoughts, remember."

"Edward, Jacob knows I'm not available. He's okay and we're going to be friends," I say.

"What do you mean he knows you're not available? How could he?"

"I, ah, I told him there was something between you and me," I admit.

Edward leans forward, brows furrowed. "You told him that? Today? Wasn't that a little presumptuous of you? You didn't know I had feelings for you yet, or how serious they are."

"Yes, but I already knew I loved you," I say, and his expression darkens as he all but flies across the table. He pulls me up off my chair and hard against him, bending his head so that his mouth is at my ear.

"Say it again," he demands.

"I - " His lips are on mine, and I can't speak.

"Again," he says, almost in a growl this time, but he still doesn't let me. If he could read my mind the way he could read everyone else's he'd have it confirmed a hundred-fold, but of course he can't.

During this kiss I become aware again of my body's response to him and my growing arousal, at the same time as I become aware of his. He has said that he wants me, and I feel the evidence pressing against my belly. This is the closest our bodies have been to one another, and I begin to lose focus on the kiss, concentrating instead on other matters. If I sit up on the table will I be at the right height to feel him where I want to feel him?

Edward pulls back from me suddenly.

"I should take your plate in," he says shakily. "Can I get you anything else? A drink, perhaps?"

To my puzzlement, he disappears inside. I have very little time to contemplate what's going on with him though, because all at once, two things happen. One is that there is a shrill scream from inside the house. It is Alice's voice, urgent and extremely distressed.

The other is that there's a sudden rushing of air, and a pair of arms grab me from behind, lifting and twisting me easily, and throwing me without ceremony over a shoulder. As I'm being borne very swiftly away I lift my head, and I can just make out Edward on the deck, struggling against two figures restraining him, and Alice and Jasper hurtling through the door.


	13. Chapter 13 A Truckload of Chocolate

SM made up the Twilight Saga, this is what it would have been like if it had been me.

Shorter.

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Thirteen

A Truckload of Chocolate

"Hello gorgeous, I've been wanting to meet you," a low voice sneers next to my hip, and my captor is running, his arms around my upper legs like a vise. He can only be one of the rogue coven, and they're here sooner than Edward anticipated. His call to Billy didn't get there in time.

Trying not to panic, I somehow summon the discipline I need for shape-changing. It's difficult under these circumstances but I shrink as quickly as I can.

"Huh?" he grunts, adjusting his grip, and maintaining his speed.

Drawing a deep breath, I expand, and this time his amazement affects him.

"What the fuck?" he demands, as the lengthening of my arms means that my hands can reach to his legs. I'm trying to make him trip up. He slows as he's trying to work out what to do with me, though the constriction of his grip doesn't diminish at all, in fact it tightens painfully. Although I've easily gotten away from Edward when he's held me, Edward didn't want to hurt me. This devil has no such qualms, and he's grasping me harshly enough to break bones.

"Hold still, you little freak," he hisses, "Unless you want to get me so pissed I pull your head off."

Why would I hold still? As if what he's got planned for me is a better option than decapitation!

Only moments have passed since he grabbed me on the deck, but I don't know whether Alice and Jasper will have stopped to help Edward against his assailants or whether they'll have come after me. I crane my head back and up, raising it cobra-fashion and shrieking like a banshee into the night. There are no sounds of pursuit from behind us yet, so it must be that this monster's companions are holding the Cullens off.

"Shut up. I don't know what the hell you are but I'm going to have fun finding out," he pants, and his very voice is disgusting, as well as what he's said. Determined to carry on resisting, I force my teeth to grow, glad of the all the games I've played with Allyson, and I bite his back viciously, below the shoulder blade. He lets out another grunt, this one pained. It's accompanied by a momentary faltering in his grip, so now I know I can affect him. From what Allyson said, the rogues bit her almost straight away, and she must have gone into shock and been unable to do anything to safeguard herself. The suddenness of my abduction hasn't rendered me helpless, and he hasn't stopped to attack me, even though it might render me incapacitated. It's to my advantage that he seems worried about being followed.

We've come a fair way now, and each of my assaults takes longer than the last as I begin to tire with the rapidity of the changes I force myself through, but to one side of us I suddenly hear the baying of wolves, and my heart leaps. Jacob! And how many are with him? A lot of sets of fangs, I hope.

Unless Edward has somehow been injured, he will be after us, too. He'll get away and leave his brothers and Rosalie to fight.

I need to keep trying to free myself, though. I can't actually separate my cells and come apart, but I can concentrate volumes of water. It's hard to focus when I'm being carried at such a rapid mile-eating rate and my head is upside-down, but resolve lends me the power to direct my abilities. I start to flow, and my abductor sneers, "A shape-shifter... I thought only dogs could do it... You may be a bitch, but you don't smell like a dog."

He's finding it hard to hold me now that I'm becoming jellylike and losing form, and he simply stops and puts me down.

"Oh, darling, you smell divine, and I love the way you wriggle. You're going to be the best time I ever had."

I'd scratch his eyes right out, but his hands are clamped around my wrists like handcuffs. I spit at him.

Instead of becoming incensed, he seems to find this amusing, and tilts his head, raising one eyebrow.

"Maybe I'll start on you now, because you won't be so unco-operative once I've drained you just a little. That other bitch we took, the one you smell like - once we sucked on her, she just dropped."

All vampires are beautiful, and if this one's face wasn't so twisted with malevolence, he would be angelic - but what a sick, demonic outcast from heaven he'd be. Long blond hair frames his narrow, perfectly boned face, accentuating the darkness of his lashes and his straight brows. He should be beloved - and cherished and admired, but he has taken Lucifer's path. His lips are drawn back in a rictus, and he fixes a grip on my neck that could crush it. I'm waiting to hear the crack.

"Don't worry baby, I won't kill you. You're precious. This won't hurt a bit," he promises. "Oh wait, I'm lying," and in his eagerness to savage me he's dropped his guard. I bring my knee up with all the force I can muster. It turns out vampires are just as vulnerable in the crotch area as humans are, particularly when they're taken by surprise, and he gasps and lets me go. I can't possibly outrun him, but leaping away I do have a head start and I plunge to the trees, wishing that Edward could hear my mind and find me. Is my brain chiming? I don't even now how to make it happen. Maybe he can hear my attacker though, he must sending out waves of agony. Grimly, I hope that he is.

I don't get far before he catches up with me, woodsmanship not being a craft I have had a single lesson in. A deaf person could locate me. And I'm stumbling in the dark, which is not a problem he is facing. He grabs me from behind again, but as he does it I can just make out a blur through the watery light streaming from the moon above, and a giant wolf has come at us out of the trees alongside. All three of us are catapulted to the ground, rolling. I have the weight of both of them on me, and the very air is squeezed from my lungs by the pressure on my ribs. The wolf has the vampire by the back of the neck, and drags him off me but my assailant simply reaches back with both hands and tears the wolf away, throwing him to one side, and scrambling back to grab me again.

"One step closer, dog-breath, and I'll snap her neck," he growls, and Jacob stops, foamy saliva dripping from his open mouth. In the half-light his fangs gleam, his eyes are narrowed and his ears pinned back. Two other wolves appear silently, and they wait, poised for action, magnificent in their wildness and their stillness. Their gazes are fixed on my captor's hands, tight at my throat, and they are coiled like springs.

It's not a stalemate though, because I haven't finished with my tricks yet, not by a long shot. I dislocate my neck, and my head lolls to one side. The vampire is startled into loosening his grip again, wondering where my vertebrae have disappeared to, and the wolf I know to be Jacob yelps, no doubt thinking that the vampire has broken my neck. The wolves flanking Jacob leap in perfect accord, going for the vampire's arms. Remembering Edward telling me about the pack mind, I realize they're all communicating silently, that's how they co-ordinated such a manoeuvre.

The blond demon is struggling to throw them off, so strong he can lift them clear of the ground, but they won't let go. Feeling their jaws to be locked on him he roars with frustration and fury.

And then Edward is there, descending amongst us like an avenging angel. He takes in the situation at a glance - me on the ground and Jacob standing over me, nuzzling me - the vampire straining to free his arms from the valiant wolves who have him in a grip like death. Edward strides to him and hits him so hard in the face I hear his jaw break. Edward hits him again, and a cheekbone crunches. I can't bear to watch, and I wish I didn't have to hear it, either. I turn away, and Jacob still has his head over mine, and he's whimpering, his dark eyes glowing with worry, and I hug him and whisper, "Jacob, I'm okay, more or less. He didn't hurt me. But he would have if you hadn't gotten here when you did. Thank you.

There is a very deep rumble in his throat that manifests as a vibration I feel, rather than hear. Head bowed over mine, his muzzle is close. I kiss it. Those wolfish eyes are very expressive, even in moonlight, and I see despite bafflement, they show pleasure. He doesn't know how it could be that I can speak and kiss with an apparent broken neck, but he's certainly glad of both.

Now I hear the blond vampire taunting Edward, and it's dreadful.

"Happy to hit someone who can't move their arms?" he sneers. "_Coward_. Here you are with your puppy friends helping you out - you think you're strong?"

Edward hits him again. I don't know how this is going to end. I don't know if vampires can be killed - so what can be done?

"You and I don't need to fight over this fragrant little morsel. I'm prepared to share. Week on, week off - how does that sound?" my attacker jeers, his words slurred and muffled due to the breakages in his skull.

"No-one's sharing," Edward states, and it appears he has somehow signaled the wolves to let go. He and his adversary lunge at each other with incredible force, and Edward is slammed against a tree. Its trunk shudders at the impact. The three wolves are standing over me now, warily, but the blond vampire has no interest while Edward is around. Edward picks himself up and advances again.

The two continue to wreak what looks like terrible damage on one another, snarling and hissing. The blond is stronger and burning with hostility, but Edward is controlled, and ice-cold, and is blocking and deflecting, obviously reading the other's mind. I want it to be over, but a clear victor isn't apparent.

Suddenly Emmett and Jasper appear, and Emmett yells, "Dope him!"

All three Cullens, and two of the wolves form a ring around the interloper, and close it. His attempt to dive over one of the wolves to escape fails as strong arms grab him, and then Emmett pulls a syringe from somewhere and sinks it with a hard jab into the vampire's thigh. Though it's slow to take effect, his struggles eventually subside and he slumps, eyes creepily still wide open, in Jasper's arms.

Edward comes to me, and Jacob doesn't stand back. Edward has to elbow him out of the way.

"Tamara, are you hurt?" he asks desperately.

"No, Jacob got here in time. You all did," I answer, standing. I feel wobbly, but I'm fine.

"I'll kill that fiend who abducted you," Edward bites out, but Jasper has a hand on his arm, and says "No, Edward, you'll make a criminal of yourself. You know you can't do it. We'll take him back, lock him up, and contact the Volturi, just as Carlisle said."

"What's going on? Who are the Volturi? Why can't you kill him?" I ask, clutching on to Edward with one hand, and leaning on Jacob with the other.

"Shut up," Edward says.

"_Pardon_?" I respond, with considerable surprise.

"Oh, not _you_, Tamara, I would never speak to you like that, ever. It's this wolf and his erroneous observations. They are unwelcome and quite mistaken."

Edward sweeps me up into his arms then, as though to prove something to Jacob. I don't know what's going on between the two of them, but now we are a surreal procession through the night of the woods - Emmett, who is nearly as big as Jacob in human form - carrying the presumably unconscious, or at least immobilised blond vampire slung over his shoulder in a firemen's hold; Edward carrying me as though I were a bride, Jasper tall and fine, almost seeming lit from within when shafts from the moon catch him; and the three huge wolves pacing majestically. Emmett and Jasper came by car, so we return to the road and they use ropes from the trunk to bind my attacker, even though ropes wouldn't hold him if he were to come to himself again, and throw him in the trunk.

Bending to each of the wolves in turn, I thank them, and they lope off through the darkness and the rest of us get into the car.

"What happened to the other two rogue vampires?" I ask immediately, turning to Jasper from the front seat. I couldn't bear to be in the back, picturing all too easily the peeling of metal and accompanying noise of the demon in the trunk reaching for me.

"We fought. We won. It was awesome," Emmett says, grinning. "Carlise shot them up with tranq, just like we've done with Cuddles here. We could've hit them a few more times, though - it was a shame to have to cut it so short really, but Edward took off like a rocket and we needed to come after him."

"Tamara, are you doing okay?" Jasper asks quietly, and I was shivering, from a delayed nervous reaction I suppose, but at his words a warm cloud of calm envelopes me, and I feel serene, almost content, with the purr of the car's motor soothing me.

Edward is driving, and he looks at me quickly when I don't answer. "I'm just dandy," I assure him. "I don't understand it. I was in real peril back there, but all I want to do is smile. And I'd love to eat some chocolate. I don't suppose you guys have any chocolate?"

"I'll get you some," Edward promises me. "I'll get you a truckload."

"So what did we miss Tamara? Did you kick any vampire ass? Alice said you've got one or two moves. Can I see them? Jeez, girl, if you've got any moves that involve pulling out a can of whoop-ass on Edward, I'll give you a _barnload_ of chocolate!" Emmett snickers, from the back seat.

At the house, I go straight to see Allyson. She's actually awake, and Esme is with her. I expect apoplexy, at the very least, because it will have taken her all of one second to know what Esme is, but they are talking peacefully, and Esme has given her chicken broth. I wonder if Ally realises yet she is surrounded by an entire houseful of Eaters, it's not just the one kind one sitting next to her. Esme gives the impression she couldn't harm a fly, and certainly could never have stalked anyone and bitten the side of their throat off. What a bunch of misfits this family are.

"Oh, you're safe, you're _safe_," Allyson rejoices as I hug her awkwardly. She has a canula in the back of her hand still, with a tube connected to a bag on a stand - and I have no idea what's in it. No longer deathly pale, her complexion is soft and pink now, and the bruises are almost gone. The deep cuts she was sporting only a couple of days ago have faded to pale red lines, and the worst of the wounds, the ones on her throat, while still alarming, are closed over, the skin regrowing beautifully.

Carlisle walks in, and Ally starts visibly, but Esme must have told her about him, Greeting him courteously, she begins to thank him with fervor.

"Thank you," he replies, but he immediately turns to me.

"Tamara, I am sorry to drag you away from your mother, but a word, please? It's urgent," he says, and telling Ally I'll be back soon, I follow him.

Outside the door, he turns and looks down at me. "It's about the man we brought back, the other victim. He is very close to death, and there's nothing more I can do for him. I've administered blood and drugs, but he was simply too badly hurt, and he's unlikely to survive the night. He's drained and injured, and nothing I can give him can neutralize it. I'm very sorry, Tamara. I understand he was romantically involved with your mother."

"Yes," I say, appalled. Allyson had been hurt, and was recovering. I'd had an incredibly lucky escape. Poor John wasn't nearly so lucky. He'd been terrorized and tortured by those creatures, and they'd taken their time about killing him. I feel a wave of nausea and outrage sweep through me.

"There's one possibility, Tamara. I have no idea whether it would work, and I have no scientific reason to believe that it would, but he's dying, it's the one chance."

"What's that? Why are you telling me? Do you need my permission? Shouldn't you ask Allyson?" I say, puzzled.

"This hasn't got anything to do with Allyson. I'm talking about your blood, Tamara. You're able to self-heal, and your blood contains no venom. Allyson doesn't yet have enough to spare any. We could try giving him some of yours. I know I've already taken a lot from you, but it replenishes itself far quicker than a human's, and I don't believe it would do you any harm to take more. This is absolutely your decision, and I will respect whatever you choose."

"My blood? What if it's poisonous to him?" I say.

"We'll find out," he answers.

"Okay, do it."

We go into the other room where John is, and I've never seen a person in a worse state. Carlise must be used to this, being an emergency doctor, but I almost throw up. Carlise is professional and very quick, and Edward comes in to help. Apparently he has done some study in medicine, he has done first and second year several times, at different colleges. The blood comes out of me, and goes in to John, and then we wait. He doesn't die straight off, that's something. He doesn't convulse, or bleed from the nose, he still looks exactly the same.

"Tamara, you should probably go to bed, you've done all you can," Carlisle says gently, and Edward takes my hand and leads me out of there, disappointed and feeling low. I knew it was a long shot, but I had really hoped it would have some effect on him.

"Edward, do you want to meet Allyson now?" I ask, thinking I might as well get it all over and done with, introduce my vampire boyfriend before I collapse from exhaustion. Edward has had a shower and changed, and doesn't look at all like he just ran through a forest for an hour or two, and then beat someone up.

"We can wait, Tamara," he says. "You're very tired, and you've gone through a terrible ordeal."

"Okay, I'll say goodnight to Ally, and then can I sleep with you?"

"Ah, I don't have a bed," he reminds me. He looks taken aback.

"There must be one somewhere, isn't there?"

"Yes, my brothers and sisters have them, but they use them," he answers, looking a little embarrassed.

"What do they use them for if none of you sleep?" I ask, and then it dawns on me and I say, "Oh." Emmett and Rosalie, Jasper and Alice. They're couples, and they do what couples do. It reinforces what Edward presumably doesn't do.

"Well, you've got a girlfriend now. You might have to get a bed," I say. He reaches for me, and despite everything that has happened I'm smiling, and I'm certainly not used to this yet - this euphoria, this feeling that I'm levitating because the floor drops away when he touches me. Instantly I'm caught in that strange, giddying and delicious sensation of being cold where our bodies are in contact - down my front, and a band across my back where his arms are. And the special, startling pleasure of his lips on mine. I must feel so hot to him - as soon as I've got my mouth back, I will ask. We're caught mid-kiss by Esme coming out of Ally's room.

"Oh, excuse me," she says walking past, and she looks surprised, yet very approving. I just hope my mother has the same reaction. I tell him goodnight, and go in to spend the night on the divan next to Allyson.

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If anyone wants to send me a truckload of chocolate, feel free. Toblerone please.


	14. Chapter 14 Your Handsome Prince

Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight, I own a Buffy watch, and - brace yourselves - team Jacob socks. I've probably said it before, and I'll probably say it again. But that is not a giveaway as to the outcome of this story. And I am oh so unconditionally and irrevocably team Rob.

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Fourteen

Your Handsome Prince

Edward and the others are going off to school in the morning as though it's a normal day, but I'm nowhere near over last night yet. Physically speaking, such a lot of shape-changing in such a short time means I will need to recharge, and emotionally, I'm still traumatized. The rogue vampires are locked somewhere in the house, which I find extremely disturbing although Edward tells me they are drugged and securely confined, and they're being kept apart from one another.

"Your house has a suite of dungeons?" I ask him, dubiously.

"Well, there's a wine cellar," he says. "And a bunker. And we have quite a few cupboards."

"You don't drink wine! And Edward, I'm way too uncomfortable about this."

"You're right, of course we don't drink anything that needs storing in a cellar, but Carlisle wanted this to be a luxury home, that we could sell if we ever want to. I understand that you're worried, but they've each got enough dope in them to sedate an orca, and the wolves are nearby to keep watch. Now Tamara, while you were asleep last night I went and sorted your place out. It's ready for you to go back to as soon as you and Allyson wish it. Of course, you're more than welcome to remain here, and I speak for my family, not just myself."

We're in the kitchen, and I'm ravenously demolishing cereal and toast, to his amusement. And also fascination. He seems fixated on my mouth, watching closely and swallowing perceptibly when I lick my lips to catch the drops of milk, or dart out my tongue to catch crumbs.

"You need to tell me about this Volturi business," I remind him, at which he blinks.

"Uh - " he says, dragging his gaze back to my eyes.

"Tamara, excuse me," Carlisle interrupts, coming in silently. "Our patient survived the night. I am beginning to feel optimistic."

He takes me along the hall to John's room, and incredibly, John looks marginally better. It's nothing like the transformation that has taken place with Allyson, but he's still breathing, and his pallor is not as severe as last night.

"Can we give him more?" I ask.

"I don't think that would be advisable for you until a little later, but eat up today. You need a lot of nutrients - red meat and green leafy vegetables. I'll see how you are this afternoon. He is comfortable now, and his condition is stable," Carlisle replies.

Edward leaves me with a lingering goodbye, consisting of an embrace we're both reluctant to break, and chaste, though ardent kisses. We're watched with great interest by all his siblings except Rosalie, who shrugs with what looks like boredom. Alice is winking and grinning, Jasper is smiling fondly, and Emmett looks hopeful.

"Could you transform into something, Tamara? A boa constrictor?" he asks. "With the kind of grip you've got on Edward, maybe you could do some decent damage."

Edward is still admonishing him as they all walk out to their cars.

I spend the morning with Allyson again, and tell her what transpired the night before.

"Those Eaters are _here_, in the house?" she gasps.

"Carlisle and Edward have assured me they've been rendered completely harmless. They're tranquilized and apparently they're shackled as well," I say. I know they're monsters, but whoever the Volturi are, I hope their business doesn't take too long. Alyson's torturers are sentient beings, and even torturers deserve some dignity. Treating prisoners without decency makes monsters of their captors, and Carlisle has decreed that they be treated well, but I just want them gone.

"Now, Tamara, is there anything you might want to tell me? Anything you're holding back?" Allyson asks, and I know her intuition has zeroed in on the frequency of Edward's appearances in my conversation, and the way I say his name.

"I'm not exactly holding anything back, Mom, it's more that I'm waiting for the right time," I say, but I'm going to have to come out with it, since she's guessed anyway. I've never talked about a boy or man to her before, ever.

"I'm in love with Edward."

"I _knew_ it!" she beams.

"There's just one little thing, though. He _is_ a member of this rather unusual family. They're all adopted, but they're all related in a way," I go on.

She frowns, trying to follow me, then the lines across her forehead get even deeper.

"Oh, Tamara. He's a _vampire_?"

"Pretty much. Well, yes. But they've all taken an oath, the Cullens, they don't kill people. None of them have fed on human blood for decades. And they're not going to slip - they have each other for support, and they're all committed, and it makes them outcasts in the vampire world. They're devoted to one another."

My Allyson is nothing if not empathetic. She and I have loved one another for so long, and have been ever hopeful and supportive of one another finding a mate, even though it's seemed doubtful, given our uniqueness. Now despite misgivings, Allyson wants the best for me.

"Tamara, I'd give anything to see you happy, and you're far from a fool. You're not going to accept anything less than someone who deserves you, and I know loving a human inevitably presents a sad long term outcome for you and me. I have wished that we would somehow find people like us, with our strange lack of ageing, but it hasn't happened, and we have lived so long without partners, you and I. I'm older than you, and it doesn't get easier. I guess that's why I threw the rule book out of the window and became involved with John. If you have faith in your Edward, then I do too, because I have faith in you, and in your judgement. When do I meet your handsome prince?"

"This afternoon!" I smile, arms gently around her. She has accepted the idea of a vampire son-in-law! Having met Esme and Carlisle first has probably helped, as has the fact that Edward and his family are superheroes who have saved our lives. But I have other news for her.

"About John," I say. "He's here, and you're well enough to get up and walk now. Do you want to see him? He's very, very ill, but Carlisle cautiously thinks he's on the mend."

"Oh, _John_," she sighs, and I take her in to look at him, and he appears even better than this morning. He's sleeping peacefully and the monitors show a strong and regular heartbeat. My blood is working wonders, although he still looks like a gang of tigers got hold of him.

"Come to the kitchen, Mom, let's see if Esme has any steak," I say, and I explain as I go.

"Your blood? It's helping John?" My mother is amazed. I saw how her eyes softened when she looked at him. She has known she will lose him of course, but she had thought it wouldn't be for years. Then she thought she already had. This reprieve that may be happening will speed her recovery more than the miraculous properties of our unexplainable plasma.

Esme is delighted to cook for us, and she does so, with me marveling how well she and Allyson get on. It's as if they've known one another for years, and as if my mother has put aside or overcome her antipathy to what Esme is.

After we eat, Allyson wants to sit with John, and I go and play the piano for a while, very badly I might add. I don't how people can coax a tune out of the things with only ten fingers to call on, and I have to compose my own pieces as I can't manage to play anybody else's. Probably the racket I'm making is none too tuneful or pleasant.

Eventually I give up and read for a while. Then mid-afternoon, well before any school bell would ring, I hear the roar of a motorcycle outside. Jacob! Edward is so conscientious he wouldn't skip school just because of a near-death experience, but apparently, Jacob isn't. I open the front door with a huge smile, and wrap my arms around the heroic lycanthrope.

"Hey, Tamara, I must rescue you more often, if that's the reception I'm going to get," he grins, delighted.

"Please can I meet your friends, so I can thank them personally? Were they at the beach party?" I ask.

"Oh, you don't have to hug them. Just me, several times, and I'll pass the message on," he says, and then, "Tamara, I thought that leech broke your neck. I saw your head flop, but I could still hear your heart. What the hell happened?"

"Ah. Well, I'm full of surprises, Jacob. My neck is okay. It would take more than one bad-tempered ill-intentioned vampire to hurt me."

He regards me quizzically.

"I don't understand. You mean I raced through the night until my paws bled, risking life and limb and you didn't need my help? What's with that?"

We're drifting outside, across the front lawn, away from the house.

"Oh, no Jacob, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that at all. I was being facetious. I certainly did need your help - that vampire was so strong I couldn't have held him off any longer. He was about to bite me, and I think I would have gone into shock, and then God knows what would have happened. No, it's just that I haven't told anybody about myself for my whole life, and in the last few days it feels like I'm shouting it from the rooftops. You were right that time you said I'm different. I can do unusual things with my body."

I know that last bit came out wrong as soon the words leave my lips. His eyes light up, his mouth curves into a cross between a grin and leer, but definitely tending more towards the leer, and he says, "What kind of things?"

He's got such a funny little-boy eagerness, crossed with a look that's a mixture of lust and skepticism. I shouldn't play with him, so I won't tease, but -

"Oh, this, for instance," I say breezily, and stretch up. He's about six-four, or six-five, and so am I. It shouldn't be provocative.

"_Whoah_!" he says in wonder. "_Fuck_! Oh, sorry. What _are_ you?"

"You tell me and we'll both know," I answer lightly, shrinking back down again. "And I can do this," I add, bending into improbable curves before straightening up.

"So last night - ?"

"I moved the bones in my neck, where he was holding me, to see if it would convince him that I was already injured and he wouldn't have to hold on to me so tight," I tell Jacob. "I thought it might give me a chance to get away."

"Well, it convinced _me_ that you were injured. I was terrified," he asserts. "But hey, I like that trick with your height. Do that one again." He smiles down at me. "Come back up here. Or I'll meet you halfway," and he tilts his head towards mine. He seems to be angling for a kiss.

I jump backwards. "Oh no, you don't! We're not going to be friends if you're going to do that, Jacob. Do you understand? Friends _without_ benefits. I've got a boyfriend, and I'm just not interested in you that way at all. _At all_."

He sighs. "You were on Saturday. Or you could have been."

"Saturday seems like last century to me now. And yes, I know I looked at you. It's pointless and dishonest to say I didn't. But I already liked Edward, I just didn't know how he felt about me. And now I do know. It's mutual."

"He's a freak," Jacob grumbles.

"I'm a freak, too."

"It's not in my nature to kill you. That's got to be a point in my favor."

"He's not going to kill me either."

"I'll be around, if he's too cold for you. I'm _warm_, remember. _Much_ warmer than he is."

I can see I'm going to need to be stern. Jacob's jealousy is flattering, but I could see it coming in the way of us enjoying spending any time together.

"If you think I'm going to let you be around, you can stop talking like that," I say.

"Tamara, I'm only telling you the truth. Things have been pretty dramatic, and you haven't really had a lot of time to think this through. You and I had an instant attraction to one another, and you've even admitted it. You don't owe Ice-boy anything just because you met him first. Every time he's with you he'll be struggling not to hurt you. It wouldn't be like that with me. I'll _never_ hurt you."

But then, I can't tell him how to feel.

"Look, Jacob, I'm sorry. But you can't be too heart-broken. You've only known me a few days," I offer.

"Don't belittle my feelings! Sometimes you can just know straightaway," he insists.

"Well, yes, you're right," I acknowledge, because I was patronizing him, and because I think somewhere inside me I knew straightaway with Edward, even though it took weeks for me to recognize it, for the truth to come to the fore.

"Hey, I'll belittle myself, okay?" I suggest, and I do. I go down to three feet tall.

Jacob snorts with laughter, and I return to normal, and we chat a bit more, but then he says he'd better go.

"If your beloved boyfriend finds me here he might try to start some trouble," he says, looking aggrieved. "I wouldn't mind, because I'd get to kick his ass, but I know you wouldn't like it."

He speeds away on the bike, and I return inside, knowing Edward will be home soon. I can't wait. In the meantime I go to check on John, who is conscious, and talking with Allyson. Actually, she's doing all the talking, just chit-chatting to distract him, as his eyes look haunted. He still seems too weak to speak. He wouldn't even begin to understand the ordeal he's been through, and would still have no idea what any of us are. It will be a while before we can explain he was attacked by vampires who were after his immortal girlfriend, and he was rescued by other vampires, who were being helped by werewolves, and he's received just over half a quart of venom-resistant blood to help him get over his fatal injuries and aid him in the healing process. That's some pretty heavy information.

At quarter past three, Edward arrives home, so he hasn't only broken the speed limit, he's pretty much broken the sound barrier to get here. Quiet though the murmur of his volvo is, I hear its approach in the driveway.

"I've told Allyson about us, and she's looking forward to meeting you," I tell him at the door. "She's formed some sort of secure attachment to your mother, and we'll probably have to peel them apart in order to get her home. John's doing remarkably well, considering. How was school?"

"Very dull without you," he smiles down at me.

I'm having to develop a coping mechanism for his smile. All the earlier stares were trouble enough but this new expression of his is tender, intimate, promising, and still very intense. "We've got our play to put on, you know," he adds.

"The stupid play!" I gasp, having forgotten all about it.

"Next week," he nods.

"I haven't given it a moment's thought. Have you? How are we going to finish it in time? Can we ask for an extension?" I fret. At school I am normally never behind in anything.

"We'll be fine," he assures me, and his arm slips around my waist. Not at this rate, we won't. We'll kiss instead of doing anything.

And there is something else that needs attending to, anyway. An introduction to my mother.

Allyson is still in John's room, and I lead Edward in there.

"Mom, this is Edward Cullen," I announce.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Ms North," my boyfriend says, extending a hand.

"Oh, Edward, I think you can call me Allyson, don't you?" Mom answers, smiling. His beauty really is quite unsettling, and she swallows, blushing slightly. I'm relieved she has enough blood to do it.

"Allyson, I'm glad to see your recovery is proceeding so well. I hope you're comfortable and you have everything you need?"

He sounds stilted and formal, and it occurs to me he's been nervous about this. He needs her to approve of him.

"Yes, Carlisle and Esme have been taking care of me very well. Tamara and I are extremely appreciative of all the kindness your family have extended to us." Oh no, she's stilted and formal as well. Neither of them are being themselves. Well, Edward is a bit, as he's always very courteous.

I usher him out of there after a few minutes and the rest of his siblings come noisily into the house.

"There's a great big truck pulling up outside. What's that for?" Emmett asks.

"It must be my chocolates!" I exclaim, remembering what Edward promised me last night.

"Actually, I think it will be our _bed_," he replies.

Alice starts up with the winking, and mouths, "I told you so!"

I'm extremely embarrassed, and I think Edward is too, and there's plenty of guffawing from Emmett. Edward turns to him and hisses, "If you ever verbalize that thought, or anything like it, I will rip your tongue out and stuff it down your throat," as the delivery men take the bed upstairs and assemble it, and Emmett answers, "Well, stop trawling around in my head little brother, if you don't like what you find."

Surprisingly, it's Rosalie who brings us linen.

"Edward's sulked for years. Having you around appears to be improving his mood," she pouts, which may just mean that she's going to put up with me. It's not exactly a welcome, but it's probably as gracious as she can be.

When everyone's cleared off, and the bed is made, Edward and I sit down on the edge of it. I'm looking at my knees and I don't know what he's looking at because I can't see him.

"So Jacob was here again," he remarks.

"Yes, he came to check on me," I agree.

"I hope he behaved himself."

"He did. I think we have an understanding," I say, hoping it's true.

"I think _you_ have an understanding, Tamara. I don't know that he quite understands it yet."

"Why do you say that?" I ask him.

"Last night he was gloating that you kissed him, on his _muzzle_."

Edward emphasizes the last word, and actually laughs. "Seriously, though. Don't think you can go being affectionate with him when he's in dog mode. He'll completely misinterpret it."

"You're being quite bossy."

"I have the advantage, or perhaps I should call it the misery, of knowing what he's thinking," Edward says, and moves closer, sliding an arm around my shoulders.

"And yes, I suppose I am being quite bossy. Do you mind?" he murmurs. I don't mind anything when he's this close. All I'd mind would be if he moves further away.

"Do I feel warm to you?" I ask, remembering a previous thought, and putting a hand up to his cheek.

"Yes," he murmurs, capturing my hand and holding it to him.

"How warm?"

"I can't really quantify it, I don't know. I don't have a system of measurement for it. But yes, your hands feel warm. Your lips are warm, and the inside of your mouth is indescribable."

I lose my breath at this, and simply stare at him and he leans slowly to find my mouth with his. We check his claim for a minute or two - or seven or eight, maybe longer. When we break apart I put my hand to the back of his neck, unwilling for the kiss to be over, but he murmurs, "You have to eat. Carlisle will be asking if you're willing to donate more blood. Have you had red meat today?"

"Yes, half a longhorn steer. Mom ate the other half. I think Esme was repulsed. She thought we were so nice, and then she saw us consume a ton each of dead animal."

He laughs. "I'm sure she still thinks you're nice. I know I do, and I've seen you eat."

I'm just watching his mouth as he speaks, and he can see I'm doing it of course, and then I start looking at the rest of him, and he can see that too, and he bites his lip, which is uncharacteristically self-doubting of him, and says, "Can we have a talk about this bed business, and all that it entails?"

"Of course," I answer.

"It's been very sudden, what has happened and is happening between you and me. I've waited a very, very long for you to come along, and Tamara, there is no hurry for me. You're not going to die tomorrow, or next week, probably not ever, and it looks like you're not getting any older either, and I would like to have a courtship. You might think that's very old-fashioned of me, but we can take our time getting to know each other, in every sense. I don't want to just jump straight into bed, that's what I'm saying. I want to savor every moment with you, not have them hurtle by because we're in a mad headlong rush to get somewhere. I want us to build intimacy and trust slowly, but of course, you have to agree. I'm trying not to be too bossy again, but that is truly what I want," he states.

"Oh," I reply, thinking. A courtship sounds fine to me, although so does jumping straight into bed. But he's right - there's no need to rush, although I already want him. "How long a courtship?" I ask.

"I don't know - I wouldn't think we could set a date and mark it in our diaries. I think we'll just know. We'll take it in stages, and we'll just know when the time is right. I have never had a lover, you will be my first and only. I will love you utterly, but I want us both to be ready."

"Oh, Edward, I've had lovers, and I've even been married, but it was a long time ago. Girls used to have to be married or be nuns or prostitutes, they didn't have many choices - often if they had no man to provide for them they faced a bleak future. I can't undo those days. I became fond of some of the men but I have never truly loved a man before you. I have brought up a child, too, an adopted one. She is long dead, and I loved her more than anything. There is a price to pay for longevity, and that is sorrow."

We'd been talking about sex, and now I've managed to get death into the conversation again. It's like I'm obsessed with it.

"You and I won't have to suffer the loss of each other," he says, and holds me as I shed a tear for my lost daughter who died an old woman, while I remained as I still am. But he's right - all things being equal, I can't lose him.

"But, yes, I agree whole-heartedly to a courtship," I affirm, looking at him. He kisses the tears trembling on my eyelashes.

"And you know our play?" I say. "I think we should ditch the whole thing and start again. I want to write about something positive, and affirming, and heartlifting. Can we write about love?"

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Peepsies, I love y'all. No-one sent me a truckload of chocolate, probably because I haven't given anybody my address. In the past I have asked for an alsation, and not received that either, probably because you can't post them. However, expressions of opinion are free and easy to send. Why not favor me with yours? If you like we could have intercourse. You know - a dialogue.


	15. Chapter 15 Sweet Dreams, Beautiful Girl

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Fifteen

Sweet Dreams, Beautiful Girl

I would be quite happy for whatever phase of our courtship we're up to to proceed from that point, but Edward's enhanced hearing has picked up the sound of Carlisle's car, and he takes me back downstairs. Carlisle runs a couple of checks on me and pronounces me fit to donate again.

"I can see I don't need to go back to school, there's a whole career waiting for me that I'm already perfectly qualified for - bloodbank," I tell him.

"Not really an option," he responds, although I was joking. "I've performed an analysis on your blood and there are compounds I can't identify, but I suspect John's body can only tolerate it because of the depletion of his own blood and the lingering traces of venom. Once his plasma is sufficiently recovered, I think your blood will be toxic to him. We can hope not too many humans find themselves in his situation."

"Yes," I agree emphatically. Edward swabs the inside of my elbow as Carlisle slides the hypodermic needle into my arm.

"Who are the Volturi? And why do they need to be involved?" I ask then.

"They're a sort of Supreme Council of vampires. They are the body who set and administer our laws. It is illegal to murder one of our own kind, so if we were to put our three prisoners to death we would find ourselves on trial."

"But have they committed any crime against vampire law?" I say.

"That is the question, Tamara. Strictly speaking, they haven't. Your mother is not a vampire, and they didn't kill her. I am going to argue for a new law, if it is not already in existence but so obscure we don't know of it - that it be deemed criminal to torture an Immortal. We will need to create a new category of Immortal for your mother and yourself, but the Volturi are masters of knowledge. They may know of you, but not have considered it ever necessary to inform you of their existence, or they may know of others like you. You may not be the only ones. They are sending representatives who should be here by tomorrow. The council members are based in Europe and rarely travel, but this is an important matter."

"I still say we mete out our own justice," Edward muttered.

"Edward, that will not happen," Carlisle reprimands him gently.

"Can someone be convicted of a crime if it wasn't illegal at the time it was committed?" I ask, not seeing how this is going to work. "And, Carlisle, if Allyson has healed, how can we prove she was attacked?"

"These are very good points, Tamara. As to your first question, if there is not a law already in place we will set a precedent, and if we are setting one we might as well shoot for another and request that the law be made retrogressive. And the Volturi are due to arrive in a matter of hours. Allyson will still bear the marks of her injuries, and there are stress hormones and venom still in her blood."

"How can we prove she and I are immortal?" I ask warily. "Will they take your word for it, or will you have to try and kill us to show we don't die?"

"Nothing so dramatic, Tamara, you can relax. I have blood samples, and we can take fresh ones. They have spent hundreds of years engaged in the study of science, medicine, art and culture. They will take one look at a slide of your blood and will see the age of it."

"You can tell our ages from our blood cells?" I ask eagerly.

"Yes, with quite a degree of accuracy. It's fascinating. Your human age is eighteen or nineteen, your immortal age is around one hundred and forty. You didn't know this?"

I shake my head in wonder. "I have no memory of being human," I say. "No childhood, no growing up. I thought maybe I'd always been this way."

Carlisle looks very interested at my statement. "Allyson is around thirty-six or seven, and also about one hundred and forty, just like you," he continues. "With your permission, I would like to see if I can find anything further out about the two of you, but of course it will wait until our current situation is resolved."

I'm avidly curious, and I know my mother will be. "Yes, absolutely," I nod, and he takes his leave of us to go and administer to John.

"Did you hear that? I'm older than you _twice_! My blood is nineteen _and_ a hundred and forty!" I say to Edward. He smirks back.

"It's also currently somewhat reduced. Let's find you something to eat, and then get you upstairs," he suggests.

"Why, sir, you promised me a long courtship!" I exclaim.

"Upstairs to do _homework_. We've got a play to write," comes the answer. He means it, too.

He stuffs me full of chickpeas and rice, and then we go to his room to work on the play.

"If it's going to be about love, my idea is that we roll around on the floor kissing for the full ten minutes," is my first proposal. "We did already discuss not having any dialogue, though that would be a dialogue of sorts."

"While it would illustrate the theme amply, I don't know that we'd be marked very highly, and we'd probably even be stopped, unless our performance was considered avant garde," Edward answers, smiling. "We do want to pass English this year, don't we?"

"Oh, look I can already speak it, and you do pretty well yourself. What does it matter?" I reply, but he's right of course.

"What sort of love do we want to talk about? Eros? Parental love? Self-love? The love of humanity?" he muses, already thinking.

"You said once that to be human is to love, and to honor love. What about that as a starting point? Neither of us are human, we're looking at it from the outside, with awe and longing," I say.

"Could the converse be true? To love is to be human? Do I regain some of my humanity through love?" Edward asks me, wonderingly.

After a couple of hours where we discuss our theme and look up essays and poetry on the internet, I decide to go and check in on Allyson and John before bedtime. They're together, and they're talking, too. John looks dazed and shocked, and I think I may have walked in on Allyson trying to explain to him what has happened.

"I'm sorry, am I intruding?" I ask, and Allyson shakes her head, saying, "No, actually, you can probably help. John is about to tell me what he can remember."

John turns to me, and despite the fact that he is still very weak, and showing clear signs of stress, he is much improved. I can see great strength in him, and even though I know Allyson picked someone because she was so lonely, her choice was not made lightly. He is a good man.

"First, I understand I've been receiving transfusions of your blood. I hardly know how to thank you," he says. "I owe you my life."

"I'm glad I could help," I answer.

He's frowning. "I keep meaning to ask - why are we here instead of hospital?" and Allyson and I glance at one another.

"Carlisle is a specialist, and as you can see this place is fully equipped. You and Allyson needed to be isolated. Your - experience - was very unusual," I start to answer, unsure as to what else I can say. How much does he already know? Any, some, or all of it?

I'm about to find out as he embarks on his grisly tale.

"I still can't believe it wasn't actually a nightmare," he admits. "Allyson and I were at Discovery Park, and it must have been about seven-thirty when we were attacked. It was so incredibly fast, it was is if those people had flown at us. I didn't hear or see them coming. Two of them seized Allyson, and they bit into her neck immediately, one on each side. I barely had time to register what was going on, and when I did it seemed like it couldn't possibly be happening, but then I was grabbed too.

"The first thing the guy did to me was break both my arms. I heard the bones splinter, but adrenalin was pumping through me, and I couldn't feel any pain - I just couldn't use them. I tried to get away, to go to Allyson, and the maniac guy was just laughing at me. She only seemed conscious for about half a minute, then she slumped down and one of them picked her up, while one carried me. He was so strong I must have weighed no more than a child to him. They didn't have a car - they just stuck to the shadows with us and I was drifting in and out of awareness, with no idea where we were going. At some point I blacked out fully, and when I came round, we were in that warehouse where your friends found us."

His account is delivered falteringly, as he pauses to gain his breath, or to banish the horror of reliving the whole thing.

"I can hardly bring myself to say that they have names because that seems to personalize them, addressing them as characters and not devils, but the two who first went for your mother are Victoria and Laurent, and the one who broke my arms is James. Laurent appears to be French. While they kept us imprisoned, all of them took turns with Allyson - drinking from her." He stops to compose himself, then continues.

"She has told me what they are, but I saw with my own eyes anyway. Of course I never believed such creatures could exist, and I thought they must be humans with a very sick fetish. But their strength wasn't human at all, and neither was the way they moved. They could leap from one side of the room to the other, and once after they'd disappeared for a while, they came back through the roof, jumping down what must have been forty feet, and landing on their hands and feet like cats.

"Allyson didn't regain consciousness the whole time, and even though I was so worried about her, I was thankful that she didn't have to hear the way they talked about her. They were arguing about how much blood they could take, and squabbled over having to share. Laurent is the leader and appeared to have a degree of authority, though not much. James was defiant, challenging Laurent's leadership, and he was sadistic with me. Always taunting, and hitting me seemingly for his own amusement. Victoria was aloof, and she just stalked around angrily, waiting for her next go at Allyson. When Laurent was trying to slow the other two down and restrain them, Victoria snarled like a wild animal, and James was saying he'd searched for years to find someone like Allyson again and now he had her he wasn't going to take it slowly..."

Startled, I break in, "Excuse me, John, what do you mean, he said someone like Allyson? What exactly did he say? Can you remember? I'm sorry to ask you this..."

Allyson leans forward, her expression moving swiftly from revulsion to curiosity.

"James was stroking her hair in an obscene parody of affection, and telling her one of her kind had gotten away from him before but he wouldn't be so careless this time, he'd never let her go." It's paining him to say this, but my mother and I both start talking at the same time.

"One of my _kind_?" she asks.

"One of _our_ kind?" I repeat.

"_Kind_?" John says, looking from her to me and back again. "What on earth did he mean by that?"

Allyson reaches for my hand and grips it very tightly, and John's gaze drops to our linked fingers.

"All three of them drank from me, although it was clear they preferred you," he tells her, then gathers himself to continue, "Laurent was advising them they couldn't drain you because there wouldn't be enough to go around, and I did wonder why that would be an issue when there are so many millions of people in the world - it's not like the three of them were ever going to starve. Why did they choose you?"

His question interrupts the rapt way we are regarding each other, hope springing in our hearts. One of our kind? There are others like us?

In the silence that follows, John looks wary. He's staring at Allyson's throat as if he has just noticed that the wound doesn't look anywhere near as severe as it should. He stares at me too, with narrowed eyes.

"There is no explanation for what Tamara and I are," Allyson begins, and John is trying to inch back on his bed, to move away.

"Please, John, we're not what they are. We're not dangerous and we pose no threat to you," Allyson says urgently, seeing the fear on his face.

"We're immortals too, but we're like humans. You've shared meals with me, John! I eat normal human food. It's just that we don't age, otherwise we're exactly like humans!" she pleads.

"Not quite exactly," I add in an undertone.

John is having trouble taking it in, understandably.

"Why did they want you? I know why they kept me alive - James was beating me, and enjoying it, asking if you had any family. I was so near death, I figured I wouldn't get out of there alive anyway and I refused to tell them anything."

His strength is unbelievable. Under torture he refused to betray a woman he barely knows, and her daughter that he's never met!

"It appears I owe you my life," I tell him.

Allyson touches his arm, or at least she touches the cast on his arm and he flinches slightly, but now he meets her gaze steadily.

"Oh, _John_," she murmurs.

It's probably a good time for me to leave them alone together so that Allyson can try and explain more to him. She needs to inform him about the Cullens - his mysterious rescuers - and he probably has dozens more questions, though most of them will be unanswerable. I go and knock on the door of Carlisle's office to report what I've learned.

"Carlisle, I've just been talking to John. He says James was talking about having come across someone like Allyson and me before!" I announce excitedly. "And Carlisle, if a human is allowed to appear at a vampire trial, and if he consents, he can act as witness for us. He saw what they did to Allyson."

Carlisle is sitting at his desk, and he leans on his elbows with a sigh, bringing his hands up, palms together almost in an attitude of prayer.

"I'm afraid John presents us with a dilemma, Tamara. Throughout the course of our entwined histories, there has been very little intermingling between vampires and humans. The vast majority of vampires, as I'm sure you can imagine, wouldn't dream of striking up a friendship with their dinner. Vampires have occasionally employed humans to conduct administrative tasks and smooth our way in the human world, and these - servants - have been remunerated very highly for their usefulness. They are of course required to keep our secrets, and the penalties for disclosure are beyond dreadful. John is a human who now knows about us. The Volturi will demand his execution, and they are not to be denied. He can probably attend the trial and attest to the conduct of the defendants but then - " Carlisle says evenly.

I can see he doesn't like imparting this grim information, but he is very controlled.

"Why have we kept John alive then?" I demand.

"Tamara, you need to sleep. I will consider this over the next few hours and try to come up with a solution. Unfortunately the sort of archaic and obscure texts I need to study to look for any precedent are held in Europe, and therefore my resources are extremely limited. But Aro, the leader of the Volturi, and I have known one another for decades, and it may be that I can plead for time. Please, go now, and we will wake you in the morning."

Edward's room is on the same level as the office, and I walk along to his door, standing outside for an age, hesitating. I feel as though I need to be alone to think, because I won't do any thinking at all if I'm with Edward. Maybe I should go back downstairs to the piano room and sleep next to Allyson? Allyson may not be in there - she may be with John as Emmett had found another divan and set it up in there so she could be with John and rest comfortably. In that case, I could spend the night alone, and think to my heart's content. Still, I hesitate. If I go to Edward, will he kiss me? And will I escape everything momentarily in the wild cold ardor of his lips? I need to have all my wits about me tomorrow, not knowing what the new day will bring, other than that the mystery of my own existence may meet with some clarification. Another thought about tomorrow is that if the trial begins, I will be brought face-to-face with the vampires who sought to make a captive endless blood-supply of mother and myself. If it wasn't for Edward and his family, they would have succeeded.

I knock lightly, and Edward must have been right on the other side of the door, because he opens it before my hand has dropped back to my side.

"Tamara, I've been waiting," he whispers. "I thought you might not come to me. I knew you were talking to Carlisle, and I know what he was saying to you, but I don't know how you feel about it."

"I don't either," I reply, putting my arms around his waist and sinking my head against his chest. "I just don't know," and I'm suddenly utterly exhausted. Every muscle, every _cell_ wants this to be resolved, and needs hours and hours of uninterrupted sleep. Edward can feel it, steering me to the bed and gently pushing me down onto the cover. He kneels at my feet and takes my shoes off; he whispers "May I?" and slips my jacket from my shoulders, pulling the sleeves from my arms, then lays me back and tugs my jeans down over my hips. If I wasn't so fatigued I might not let him do this. Or I might, but I'd want to do it to him, too. As it is, I can't muster a response other than a wordless nod.

"Sweet dreams, beautiful girl," he whispers, pulling the blankets over me. "I'm going now to help Carlisle, but I'll just be along the hall if you want me."

The door closes behind him, and I shut my eyes.

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	16. Chapter 16 The Worst Case Scenario

This chapter would have been longer but I bought some caramel crunch icecream. Art falters in the presence of sugar.

**Girl, Ordinary**

Chapter Sixteen

The Worst Case Scenario

I wake later, and by the clock on Edward's bookshelf I can see that it is four am. I'm alone, and I turn to look through the window at the clouded sky, unlit tonight by the visit of light from distant stars, bearing no messages of creation and destruction, no brief flares of heavenly orbs hurtling to their deaths, no winking of satellites watching us and relaying information. All seems peaceful, and yet something is on its way - the mysterious Volturi, keepers of ancient law, enforcers of a constitution older than any human one.

I wish I had some surety about what will happen, but Carlisle was unable to offer me any. His calmness has gone some way toward stopping me feeling a complete sense of panic and impotence, but that calm demeanor cannot disguise his deep concern. And if Edward were any less concerned, he would here with me now. After all, this is our first night together in a bed. _Our_ bed. The fact that he's not sharing it with me is an indication of the gravity of our situation.

As if he has felt my thoughts drift from dreaming patterns to waking ones, Edward appears silently in the doorway. I hold my arms up to him and he approaches swiftly, sitting at my side and bending towards me.

"What do you think will happen?" I ask him.

"Tamara, the worst case scenario is that Aro will decide no law has been contravened, and Allyson's three attackers will go free. Carlisle is putting together a case to argue that if there is no statute in place forbidding torture that one be passed. I'm afraid John will certainly be put to death, and that is something we need to talk to you and Allyson, and John about. There is one way to save him, but that is to make him what we are. We are reluctant to save a life by creating a killer, and newborns tend to go into a killing frenzy, but if we keep him here with us we can guide him through his first months, and after that his code of behavior will be up to him. Something to bear in mind though - when we're changed, it doesn't seem as though our vampire characters are too different from our human ones. If John is a kind and decent man, he may find the adaptation to the consumption of animal blood as a vampire not too difficult a transition."

I can't say the unsayable - which is, that John's choice of diet is contingent only upon the Volturi not executing him.

"What will happen to the three if they are found guilty?" I ask, although I suspect I already know the answer, as it seems retribution from the Volturi will not be lenient.

"Destruction," Edward says simply.

"Can't they be sanctioned in some way? Isn't there any counseling and rehabilitation for vampires? What about that idea where perpetrators are made to meet their victims and see the damage they've caused, and then they're given the chance to regret their actions and change the way they act?"

Edward is shaking his head. "Those torturers could see what they were doing, even as they did it, Tamara. They feel no remorse, I assure you. There will be no clemency. And would you really have Allyson know that they have been granted their liberty, and will probably make full use of it to come for her and you again?"

"Not liberty," I say. "Can't they be told to stay out of America or something? What if they're threatened with imprisonment if they return here? Is it possible to monitor their movements in some way?"

"Tamara, human jails are crowded with inmates. They're so full the authorities are constantly having to build more. The threat of incarceration has not been seen to work as a deterrent."

But he's considering my outburst. "The Volturi consist of most of the gifted vampires. Aro is a collector of rare and unusual things, and that includes personalities. He has approached both myself and Alice with offers, but we have refused him. It may be that amongst their ranks there is someone who can sense the whereabouts, or know the actions of other vampires. Such a thing isn't impossible, although I haven't heard of it. But Tamara, mercy is not a trait celebrated amongst our fraternity, or even practised. Vampires who show consideration and regard towards other living beings don't get to eat. We are not compassionate creatures. And Tamara, our kind need to feed on average every couple of weeks. There are three members of this traveling coven. Think of it, between them they kill at least seventy-eight people a year."

My argument dissolves then; I was overlooking that aspect of things. I abhor the death penalty in human society, but disallowing it in vampire society is to apply a continuous death sentence to humans.

"There are a few hours left. I'll stay with you. Once the trial has taken place their fate will be determined, and this will be finished. If the three mavericks do go free, my family and the wolves will make it our mission to protect you and Allyson. You can be sure of it. And Carlisle will continue to lobby Aro and the rest of the Council to change the law. You will be safe, your mother can recover in peace and security, and life will go on. You and I will be back at school..."

Edward wants me to believe this, and he wants to believe it himself. What will happen to John remains unknown, and therefore Edward doesn't mention it again. He wants me to stop dwelling on all of it, to have a brief respite, and I can see why. I still haven't recovered from the chase through the woods. And I have given more blood in the last couple of days than most donors would in a couple of months.

But to mention school!

"I don't want to go back to _school_, Edward! Couldn't we take a few days off? Your family do it now and again, when the sun is out you say you're going hiking. Couldn't we go hiking?"

I slip my arms around his neck. It's dark in his room, but there is enough light from the hall coming in through the open door for me to see that he smiles.

"Maybe," he says. "I didn't take you for the outdoor type."

"I'm not. But I _am_ the type who would like to be alone with you for a few days, as long as I know Allyson's all right. We wouldn't have to spend the whole time outdoors. Aren't there cabins? With fireplaces? And cushions and rugs and blankets and comfy beds? _Secluded_ cabins?"

Now I feel his smile, because he has tipped his head to me, and his lips are at my throat.

"Yes, there are. My family owns one, in fact. It has all of those things and it is very secluded. One day I'll take you there, I promise. But now you need to sleep."

"I'll sleep in a little while. I'd like to do this first."

My fingertips on his cheeks, I pull his face lightly back and up, away from my neck. My mouth is inches from his, and closing in. Without changing the distance between us he eases me down to the pillow, and he comes with me, his tawny eyes close and suddenly serious.

"I love you," he whispers into my lips, and then he is kissing me. Or am I kissing him? It doesn't matter which of us initiated it, because we are both there, equally involved, equally giving, one to the other. Despite my fears, I am comforted but perhaps because of my fears, my desire is heightened. I want more than his kiss, his mouth, his tongue. His hands are on my shoulders, but I want them elsewhere. We only have a few hours - and who knows what will eventuate in the morning? With a whimper, I tug at him, apprehension making me demanding. Even if he doesn't make love to me, I need irrefutable proof that he wants to.

I can sense warring emotions within him as he responds to my urging. One of his thighs slips between mine, and he groans softly. The sound inflames me. I know I'm pushing him, and he will soon reach his limit, but I need this. I rotate my hips, shamelessly pressing myself against him, my lips open against his and my breath coming in pants. The hardness between his hips pushes at my outer thigh. One of us has to stop.

With a new clarity, I know it has to be me.

We are both vulnerable right now, but I am experienced and he isn't. If I persist in my seduction he will be overwhelmed. I suddenly understand that he can only say no to me when he is in control, and if I drive him out of control he'll be helpless against the force of my desire and his own. I cannot coerce him in such a way. Tonight is not the situation he would have envisaged for us to be together sexually for the first time, and to love him is to respect him, and to respect this wish of his - that we wait until he feels ready.

Reluctantly I temper the fire of my kisses, and ease the restless movements of my body, surging less insistently into his.

His eyes had lost focus, but now they return to me as he murmurs my name. Slowly the heat of our passion cools, though with continued caresses. Then his lips move to my neck again, below my ear, and as he kisses me there a deep shudder runs through him and he throws himself abruptly away from me to lie on his back.

"Edward, I'm sorry," I say, and he's lying staring at the ceiling, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"I'm sorry too, Tamara. This is difficult for both of us, but that was too much, too soon for me."

And so we have reversed positions. Tonight, I have become the one to hold back. Tonight I have gained insight into myself and Edward, and in doing so have become wiser. If our roles were reversed, and I was the virgin wanting a courtship, knowing myself to be in love, and knowing that my suitor and I were irrevocably entwined in each other's hearts - would I expect to trust him with my love and my innocence? Would I want his patience, his honor? Yes.

I realize I have begrudged his restraint. I do so no longer. It is a part of him and I already know I love his depth and complexity. When the time is right we will make love. It won't be a rushed, frenzied and selfish encounter on a night when lives hang in the balance and my mother's heart swings on a pendulum. It may not be moonlight and roses and candles either. Planned - spontaneous - I don't know. It will happen when it happens, and it will be mutual.

First, we need to get through tomorrow.

"I love you," I whisper and Edward holds me as I snuggle into him, and in the strangest way I feel a contentment. We are strong and we are together.

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End file.
